Exclusively Scarsdale
by razmatazz
Summary: It isn't easy living in Scarsdale. It's even harder when you're friends with Roger Davis. Maureen, Mark, Collins and Roger's growing up days in the town they call home.
1. Meeting Wogew

**DISCLAIMER: Jonathan Larson owns. I rent. The songs aren't mine either, thought the revised version of 'Comin Through the Rye' came from me. **

A/N: Currently in a writer's block for my other RENT story, 'The End of the Season'. No worries, I'll get back to it. For now, I'll keep myself busy with this one. :) It'll showcase their growing-up years in Scarsdale and how everything still revolves around Roger.

**MAUREEN**

Three-year-old Maureen Johnson was sulking in the back of her parents' new, black, shiny car as it slowly made its way down the wide streets of Scarsdale. Her pudgy arms were crossed tight over her chest and she huffed and huffed, hoping either her Mommy or Daddy would notice her, but Mr. Johnson kept on driving and Mrs. Johnson continued looking straight ahead. Maureen frowned. She hated this day since her parents weren't paying any attention to her. She hated the stockings she was wearing to go with her navy-blue dress with the white collar and the red ribbons, since they itched. She hated the soft violin music that they were listening to since it made her feel sleepy. She hated not being able to watch her favorite TV show since she was there in the car going somewhere. Her Daddy hadn't paid much attention to her since that morning, and neither had her Mommy. She'd just been put in a dress after breakfast (she hated the navy-blue dress too because she'd wanted to wear the yellow one her Grandpa had bought for her instead, but her Mommy hadn't allowed her to) and had been led to the car. Tears sprung to her eyes as a tantrum welled up inside of her.

Maureen kicked the back of her Mommy's seat angrily.

"Maureen, that's not the proper way for a young lady to behave," Mrs. Johnson's voice sounded from the front, but she didn't turn around. Maureen kicked it again. This time, Mrs. Johnson used what Maureen recognized as the warning tone, which she only heard whenever she was doing something wrong. "I'm not telling you again, young lady."

"But Mommyyy," Maureen whined. "Where are we goin'? My legs are itchy from the stock-kinks. I hate them."

As if to prove her point, Maureen reached down and clawed at her legs, which she knew she wasn't supposed to do, but she didn't care.

"Honey, you have to wear them. This is an important day." Mr. Johnson spoke up.

"But where are we goin'? I want to stay home and watch tell-vision…" Maureen pleaded, hoping her Daddy would turn around and bring her home. She always had better luck with him than with her Mommy.

"We're going to Mr. and Mrs. Davis' house." Mrs. Johnson supplied. Maureen wrinkled her nose.

"Why do I have to wear the stock-kinks? Goin' to their house isn't 'portant. I go there a jillion times and I only have to wear my socks and shoes," she said. "Mommy? Why do I have to wear stock-kinks, Mommy? Mommy?"

Her Mommy was Mrs. Davis' friend so they were always there. Maureen always liked going to the Davis house because Mrs. Davis always made cookies. Her favorites, peanut butter chocolate chip, were always in a little jar that had her name on it in their kitchen. Mrs. Davis was very nice and pretty. Mr. Davis wasn't like her Daddy, who smiled and laughed a lot, but there was one time that he had let Maureen sit behind the steering wheel of his pretty silver car while it sat in the garage. So, Maureen liked him too.

The car slowed to a stop.

"Why're we stopping, Daddy? Are you takin' me home?" Maureen inched up from her seat, excited at the thought. She could always see Mr. and Mrs. Davis tomorrow when she came home from school.

"Honey…today's important because Mrs. Davis…she went to be with the angels," Mr. Johnson said carefully. He turned around and looked at his daughter.

"You mean…for a party?" Everyone loved parties. Her Mommy and Daddy were always going to one or there was always one in their house.

"No, honey…for forever. You remember Mommy teaching you…teaching you about Heaven…and all that stuff? Well…Mrs. Davis has gone to Heaven…"

Maureen noticed that her Mommy had started crying beside her Daddy. Mr. Johnson offered his wife his handkerchief.

"So…I'm not goin' to see her anymore?" Maureen asked, remembering what her Mommy had said about Heaven. Her Daddy gave her a sad smile.

"No, baby."

"I can'ts visits her there?" she asked, because she couldn't imagine not seeing Mrs. Davis ever. She was like her second Mommy. "Won't she get lonely? Why'd the angels take her?"

"They took her while she gave birth to their baby. They have a baby now and we're all going to see…"

"Baby?" Maureen was interested. Did Pablo have babies? Pablo was Mr. Davis' dog, but he was a boy. Did he have puppies? "Pablo has puppies?"

Mr. Johnson shook his head patiently.

"No, sweetie. Mrs. Davis had a baby. The angels took her while she gave birth to the baby. We're going to see the baby today, as well as Mr. Davis, who's sad."

"Oh…" Maureen nodded, but she was confused. So…the angels took her, but the baby was here? "Boy or a girl?" She hoped it was a girl, so she could have someone to play with. Boys were yucky and boring. The only boy she liked was Tommy Collins, who lived a block away from them. He was four and he knew a whole lot of things. Sometimes, when they played dress-up, they would trade places and Tommy would be the girl and Maureen would be the boy, which was okay for her. He knew Mrs. Davis too and they were always at her house for cookies. Tommy had his own cookie jar with his name on it in their kitchen, but his favorites were gingersnaps, which Maureen thought was yucky and weird.

"It's a boy, honey…he doesn't have a Mommy now…just a Daddy." Mr. Johnson tried his best to explain the situation to his daughter.

"Roger." Maureen turned to her Mommy, who was wiping her eyes with her Daddy's hanky. "His name's Roger Gabriel Davis."

Roger. Maureen rolled the name around in her mouth. Roger was Mrs. Davis' baby's name.

"It'll just be a little while, honey, you just have to behave a little while then we're going to go home. Okay? Can you do that for Daddy? Maureen, princess, huh?" Mr. Johnson asked. "We're just going to go say bye-bye to Mrs. Davis, and hi to Mr. Davis and baby Roger."

Maureen nodded. The itch in her legs was gone, and so was her mood to watch television. She felt weird. She was never _ever _going to see Mrs. Davis again?

"'Kay, Daddy," she replied. She leaned back in her seat and sat quietly as the car started to move again up to the time it slowed down and Maureen saw the big white Davis house with the blue roof right outside her window. There were lots of cars around, and also lots of people. Everyone was wearing black, like her Mommy and Daddy were, which Maureen didn't understand. Wasn't being with the angels supposed to be a happy thing? She should've really worn her yellow dress; Mrs. Davis would've liked that.

Maureen held her Daddy's hand as they went inside the house. It was full of people, but it was very quiet and people were talking in whispers. It was like a party, only it wasn't happy.

"Jake…I'm sorry…"

Mr. Davis was there by the window and Mrs. Johnson was talking to him. He looked so sad. Maureen felt sorry for him.

"I couldn't name him Jacob Jr., because she'd wanted Roger…I couldn't do it. I gave him the name she'd wanted plus her own name…" Mr. Davis was saying quietly.

"It's all right, Jake…" Mr. Johnson patted Mr. Davis' shoulder. Maureen spotted Tommy Collins with his Mommy and Daddy standing not far from where she was, in a white shirt and a red tie, which made him not look like a kid. Without a second thought, Maureen unlatched herself from her Daddy and went to where Tommy was, who'd seen her even before she saw him.

"Tommy," she said without even bothering to say 'hi'. "Where's Heaven?"

"Huh?" Tommy looked at her in a weird way. Maureen rolled her eye. For such a smart kid, Tommy could be such a _boy _sometimes and not understand her at all.

"My Daddy told me Mrs. Davis go'd to Heaven and she isn't coming back. But she hasta come back 'coz Mr. Davis is sad and she can't leave her baby alone without a Mommy. You gots to help me, Tommy."

"My Mommy told me that we'll all go to Heaven someday if we're good. I don'ts think we can go now, Mo…" Tommy scratched his head. "And I don't think the angels will let us in either. They didn't invites us, y'know."

Maureen's face fell. She _had _to see Mrs. Davis. She wanted to cry.

"She didn'ts say bye-bye to me," her lower lip stuck out. "I didn'ts say bye-bye to her. I coulda made her a card so she coulds read something while she was goin' to Heaven."

She remembered going to England once with her Mommy and Daddy and how boring it got on the plane. She could've made Mrs. Davis something so she wouldn't be bored.

"She didn't say bye-bye to me either," Tommy looked at her sadly then his face lit up. "But we can see her baby…don'ts cry, Mo…."

Tommy used his sleeve to wipe Maureen's tears from her face then took her small pudgy hand in his warm one. He led her from the crowd of grown-ups to the stairs, where they used to run up and down with Pablo. When they got to the second-floor, there weren't any grown-ups, which was fine for them because they could finally move and breathe. It didn't smell of any stinky perfume or anything.

"How we gonna know where the baby is?" Maureen asked, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Tommy was leading her through the hallway. He stopped in front of an open door and Maureen peeked in.

"There he is!" Tommy announced happily. They were looking at a bright room, lit by sunlight. It was blue, white and yellow all over and had lots of toys and baby things in it. A crib by the window and a nursemaid was holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. She smiled at the two children as they peeped in.

"Hello," she greeted. "Are you friends of baby Roger?"

"I haven't met him yet…" Maureen said. "But I know his Mommy. She used to gives us cookies."

"Really? What are your names?" The nursemaid sat down in a rocking chair and urged them to come in.

"Thomas W. Collins, Jr." Tommy supplied confidently as he led the way into the room.

"I'm Mauween Johnson." Maureen stated with equal assurance. "Is that Wogew?" She pouted when she realized she couldn't say his name right.

"Yes," the nursemaid nodded. "This is Roger. Roger, say hi to your visitors,"

Maureen and Tommy leaned forward to see. The baby was sleeping. He was wrapped in a blue fleece blanket with little sheep on it. Maureen could see fine yellow baby hairs on his head.

"He don't have any teeth," she said. "And he's small."

"That's 'coz he hasn't drinked any milk yet. You need milk to grow big and tall, right? Like me," Tommy said. "Who'll be his Mommy now?"

"Well…I can try, but I can't take the place of his real Mommy. His Daddy's the only one he has now," the nursemaid said.

"No. I can be his friend. He can have his Daddy, and me and Tommy, 'coz Tommy and me knows his Mommy. We can tell him his stories and stuffs. Ands we can share our Mommies." Maureen said. She couldn't imagine growing up without a Mommy. Poor baby Roger.

"That's okay with me. As long as I don'ts have to change diapies and stuffs." Tommy shrugged. "Can I hold him?"

Before the nursemaid could answer, Roger opened his eyes which sparkled green, stared at Tommy and Maureen for a few seconds then burst out crying. Maureen clapped her hand sover her ears. Roger could scream louder than she could.

"Maybe you two should head downstairs now. He usually cries for a very long time," the nursemaid said, jiggling him a little.

"Okay…" Maureen started to go because she didn't like it when babies cried, but Tommy made her stay.

"We don'ts got nothin' to do downstairs. Can't we stay? We'll help with Wager," he offered politely. The nursemaid smiled.

"Of course you can. You can keep us company," she said. Maureen decided she liked this woman. She was nice and she smiled a lot. She liked Roger too, though he cried very loudly.

"Me and Tommy can take care of him. We'll take care of him pretty good," she stated. "His Mommy taked care of us good."

"I'm sure you will." The nursemaid started rocking Roger and singing to him. "_Sweetly slumber 'neath the orchard shadows, near thee murm'ring soft the brooklet flows…"_

Maureen sat on the floor and watched. Tommy sat down beside her. Roger didn't stop.

"I knows another song. He might like it. My Daddy sings it to me every night." Tommy said.

"We'll give it a try, shall we? Poor baby…he's always upset," the nursemaid said. "Go on, Thomas."

"Do I knows the song?" Maureen asked Tommy, not liking that it was only Tommy who could help. "I can sing too." Tommy shrugged.

"It's the 'buddy' song," he said. "If you don'ts know it you can just open your mouth and pretends to sing."

"Yes, Maureen, you can," the nursemaid urged her. "Go on, maybe Roger would like your song better than mine."

Maureen hitched up her shoulders proudly. She could do that: pretend to sing. She was an actress. Beside her, Tommy opened his mouth and started singing. Maureen mimicked him and 'sang' as well. She didn't know the song Tommy was singing, but she didn't say it out loud. It sounded nice anyway.

"_If a buddy meet a buddy, comin' through the rice, if a buddy kiss a buddy need a buddy cry. Every sassie has her Daddy and they say have I, yet all the dads they smile on me, when comin' through the rice…"_

Maureen didn't understand what the song was about, but grinned at the effect of it. Slowly, Roger's crying grew softer and eventually he fell asleep. The nursemaid smiled at them.

"Hey!" Tommy beamed. "He fell asleep!"

"Good job, you two. I'll bet you will take care of baby Roger pretty well. Would you like some cookies?"

Both Tommy and Maureen had to smile now. "Yes please."

"All right. You watch Roger while I get you some. I'll be right back." The nursemaid placed Roger back in the crib gently and went out of the room, her shoes making sharp clicks on the floorboards. Tommy and Maureen inched towards the crib and peered inside, their hands holding on to the railings. Roger was sleeping peacefully, his little baby mouth all up in a pout of some sort and his tiny hands curled up into fists. Maureen decided right away that Roger was special and that she and Tommy were going to be there to teach him everything they knew to make up for him not ever meeting his Mommy.

"Night-night, Wogew," she said softly.

TBC

**Like? Hate? Leave me a review please. :)**


	2. Taking Charge

**TOMMY **

Roger had celebrated his third birthday the other day and Tommy Collins had attended it, as well as all the other kids in Scarsdale, so he'd seen all the presents Roger had gotten. Roger's nursemaid, Annie, had sat Roger in her lap and unwrapped the presents with him. Tommy had noticed Roger's Daddy hadn't been there (Annie said he was in Hong Kong doing work stuff), but he'd given Roger a lot of cool stuff, like, to make up. One of them was the Radio Flyer wagon. Tommy had tried to be all big-kid like (he _was _already seven) when he saw the wagon, but truthfully, he couldn't wait to try it out with Roger and Maureen. He'd had a Radio Flyer before when he was little, but it got broken and his Mommy had given it away.

"I know!" Maureen announced as she stood importantly in front of the Radio Flyer with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a tiara in her hair, which was curly and all over the place, a new skirt, a pink blouse that said 'Daddy's Girl', and pink sneakers that had glitter hearts and peace signs all over them. Roger sat in the wagon, his mouth smeared with strawberry stains he'd gotten from eating strawberries for dessert after lunch, staring at her and mimicking Tommy, who sat beside him, his hands on his chin, patiently waiting to hear what Maureen had to say again. They were in the Davis' backyard (far away from the pool, Tommy had made sure), wondering what game to play.

"We'll play Save the Princess! I'll be the princess, and you guys can be the dragon and the knight. I saw this on TV and it was cool," she grinned at the two boys triumphantly. Tommy winced at the idea. He really wasn't in the mood for princess games. Roger wrinkled his nose in disagreement.

"No way!" Roger exclaimed. "That's sissy stuff. I wants to play wocket ship with Tommy."

"Tommy doesn't want to play rocket ship, do you, Tommy?" Maureen glared at him, compelling him to say 'No'. Tommy sighed and scratched his head. In his family, he was the youngest and he had three big brothers so he didn't have to be anyone else but a little brother. But with Maureen and Roger, he often had to play big brother. Roger was a little kid and Maureen was a big kid who often acted like a little kid, so he had to take charge, like what his biggest brother, Michael, did. That's what his Mommy and Daddy always told Michael: Take charge.

"We can play princess now and rocket ship later," he suggested. "Or we can go inside and watch TV 'coz it's getting hot…"

That was the only thing Tommy hated about the summer: the heat. It made both Roger and Maureen crankier than usual.

"My Daddy says if we watch too much TV our brains'll turn into mush," Maureen declared.

"Ewww," Roger frowned and wrinkled his nose again. He held his sandy-blonde head with his pink-stained hands as if he was scared for his own brain. "Like oatmeal?"

"'Zactly. That's why we can't watch TV. 'Sides, playing Save the Princess will be cooler and Annie told us she'll give us ice cream later if we stay here and be good…" Maureen said with a nod of her head.

"I don'ts believe you," Roger pouted. He turned to Tommy. "Izzat twue, Tommy?"

Tommy scratched his head again. His Daddy had said that too, about his brain turning into mush. But he didn't really care. The only thing he really wanted to do was ride the wagon down the hill by the park so he could see how fast the wagon went and if he could go back in time with it like what he'd seen on one TV show, but that wasn't gonna be happening. Annie would kill them and so would all their Mommies and Daddies, _especially _if someone got hurt. So Tommy wasn't even going to suggest it.

"How abouts I tell you a story instead, Rog?" he asked, hoping both Maureen and Roger would drop their formulating argument. "Annie might give us chocolate cake later if we behave…"

He cast a sideward glance at Maureen who didn't look as if she was in the mood to agree to anything else other than playing Save the Princess. Her arms were folded against her chest. She obviously didn't agree with Tommy being interested in what Roger wanted to do.

"Pablo's a better playmate than you two!" she cried. "Boys are stupid."

Tommy watched as Roger narrowed his sea-green eyes at Maureen, his chubby baby face turning red as he declared. "NO WE'WE NOT!"

"Yes you are!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

Roger hit his fists on the floor of the wagon and grabbed the ends of his green Ralph Lauren shirt in frustration, pulling them out from their neat tucked-in state from his khaki shorts. He looked as if he were about to cry. Tommy knew he would if he didn't intervene.

"Hey, c'mon guys, keep cool. There's gotta be something we could do. Mo, we can't play Save the Princess now because we just played your game, like, yesterday," Tommy compromised, mimicking what his Mommy had done between his other two brothers, James and Ian, when they'd been fighting over whose turn it was to rake the leaves last Fall; to be fair, Ian had to rake it because James had already washed their Daddy's car.

"I don't wanna play the stupid Pwincess game," Roger whined.

"We're not playing it today, Rog," Tommy assured him. Roger's frown disappeared and was quickly replaced by a bright smile. Maureen groaned and sat down heavily on one of the deck chairs nearby.

"Some friends," she pouted.

"It's _his _wagon, Mo," Tommy reminded her. "It's _his _house too."

"Yeah!" Roger said with a huge nod of his head. His hair tumbled to his face and he pushed it away with his chubby, strawberry-smelling hands. "We play wocket ship!"

Maureen stood up angrily from the deck chair, her tiara already lopsided on her head. She was in one of her moods, Tommy knew. He'd heard Mr. Johnson call his own daughter 'Drama Queen' once, and he confirmed that Maureen's Daddy had been right all along. Though, Tommy was quite used to Maureen by now.

"Fine. I know when I'm not needed. I'm going _home._"

"You know you can't go home if your Mommy or Daddy or Matilda's not pickin' you up," Tommy reminded her. Matilda was the Johnsons' housekeeper who walked her to and from the house to other people's houses.

"I can go home by myself, thank you very much, Thomas W. Collins, Jr," Maureen huffed with a stomp from her sneakers. She turned her nose up into the air. "Good day, gentlemen."

Roger giggled, his round, little-kid legs swinging happily from the side of the wagon where he had them dangling. "Mauween silly. Tommy, Tommy, make hew do it again."

Tommy watched as Maureen made her way from the deck chair towards the glass doors leading into the house. He didn't try to stop her. He knew Maureen would be too scared to go home by herself and was just making a big show of everything. Besides, Annie was inside baking a cake, and he knew how much Maureen Johnson loved cake. Annie loved to put pink icing on Maureen's slice, blue for him and green for Roger.

"Whewe's she goin'?" Roger asked him, puzzled. "Hey, Mauween!"

Before anyone could say anything else, the glass doors opened, but not with Maureen's help. Annie's head popped out and the smell of baking chocolate wafted through the air. Tommy licked his lips hungrily.

"I just finished putting the cake in the oven and now I need some help making some ice pops. Would you all like to help?"

"Ice pops?" asked Roger questioningly. "What's ice pops?"

"'What _are _ice pops', baby," Annie corrected gently as she opened the door wide. She smiled down at Maureen. "Where are you going off to in such a rush, Ms. Johnson? Don't you want some ice pops?"

Roger leaned towards Tommy and whispered stickily into his ear, "Tommy, what's ice pops?"

"Like ice cream, only different. You get lotsa flavors like cherry and grape and lime and strawberry…our nanny makes 'em too at home," Though ice pops for his Mommy and Daddy were of a different flavor: something called Tekina. Kekila? Something like that. He wasn't allowed to take any of those, though all his brothers could. But Tommy didn't complain. He liked grape and lemon best.

"I havta go home because they don't wanna play with me," Tommy heard Maureen declare.

"Is that true?" Annie looked at both boys sitting on the Radio Flyer and raised her eyebrows. Tommy shrugged. Roger mimicked him and shrugged as well. "Are you sure you don't want to stay and have some cake and things? I know you'd love some cherry-flavored ice pops. Maybe you children could help me now then later we can find something else to do. Something all of you will enjoy."

"Wocket ship!" Roger declared loudly. Annie smiled at him. Tommy liked Annie a lot. She did a real good job taking care of Roger when he and Maureen or Roger's Daddy weren't around.

"Yes, Rog, maybe you and I can play rocket ship later," she said. She looked down at Maureen again who still had her back turned to both Tommy and Roger. Tommy wished she'd quit being such a Dama Queen already and stay. He knew she wanted to anyway. "What do you say, Ms. Johnson? Is that a reasonable deal?"

Tommy smiled when he saw Maureen give a small nod.

"Okay, ice pop making, it is! C'mon inside, everyone," Annie stepped aside to let them in and Tommy helped Roger get down from the wagon, which wasn't really easy because he kept moving and squirming.

"I get stwawbewy! Annie, can I get stwawbewy?" he yelled excitedly. Tommy laughed. Who knew being with little kids was so much fun?

"Of course you can, baby. Thomas, what flavor would you like? We have every bit of flavor I think."

"I'mokay with anything...only if it's not vegetable or anything yucky." Tommy smiled.

"I'm sure we can arrange that," Annie told him as she ruffled his head. They both followed Maureen and Roger inside.

* * *

Tommy waited patiently for his Mommy to come and tuck him in as she did every night. His Daddy had just finished reading him his bedtime story (tonight it was about Sir Isaac Newton) and had spent a good twenty minutes trying to explain to him how gravity worked and other stuff. Tommy's head buzzed with new things that he itched to go and look up in the mini-library they had downstairs, but he knew they could wait until morning. As much as he loved his time with his Daddy since he was so busy sometimes, he loved his time with his Mommy too. 

"Hello, baby," Mrs. Collins entered the room delicately, almost as if she were waltzing,dressed in a simple but pretty dress. One of many she used when she was just in the house and had no plans to go out for the night. Tommy sniffed her perfume. She smelled beautiful.

"Hi, Mommy," he smiled at her. She sat down on his bed and started tucking him in.

"Did you have fun at Roger's today?" she asked gently, her long elegant fingers securing the thick duvet around her youngest son. Tommy nodded.

"Yeah. He got a Radio Flyer like mine for his birthday. We woulda..."

"'Would've', baby," Mrs. Collins corrected with a smile.

"..._would've _played with it, but Maureen and Roger couldn't get along. So we made ice pops with Annie instead, then we made puppets with her. It was fun."

"Ice pops hmm? Is that where all the mysterious purple stains on your shirt came from?" his Mommy asked, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. Tommy turned red.

"Sorry, Mommy."

"That's okay, baby. We can get Nanny to clean that up easily." Mrs. Collins finished tucking him in and folded her hands on her lap. Tommy thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She looked like an angel.

"Are you taking care of Roger, honey?" she asked him.

"Yes. And Maureen too, though sometimes she can be such a Drama Queen," Tommy sighed. Mrs. Collins laughed at her son's antics. Tommy loved how she laughed, it sounded like chimes.

"Oh, my little man, you are so gorgeous," His Mommy leaned forward and rubbed noses with him. Then, they stayed that way for a while, with her forehead against his and her hands holding the sides of his head. She smelled of perfume, peaches and a bit of lavender oil. "You're a good boy, Thomas. You watch them okay? You be their big brother, especially Roger's. Like Michael and James and Ian are to you, all right?"

"I will, Mommy." Tommy felt important now that his Mommy had actually assigned him. His chest puffed with pride.

"Good boy. I love you."

"I love you, too."

The Lone Ranger nightlamp was turned off and Tommy yawned before closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep.

TBC

**A/N: I'm going to be updating this regularly since I'm going to be starting school (yes, school) next week and won't have enough time. If it's left hanging at some point...well, I'll still try to update, okay:) Thank you to those who've already reviewed. Baby RENT characters are adorable, I know. Makes me squee every time I imagine them. Lol. And 'The End of the Season's next chpter is actually in my laptop. If I don't trash it, it'll be up in a while. Thanks! Please r/r.**


	3. Another Little Boy

**A/N: Scarfy, please don't kill me. I promise I'll get back to 'Season' ASAP. The writer's block is driving me mad, I swear. I guess it's a sort of burnout since I updated and wrote it on a crazy writing streak. Ehhhh. Sorry! It's not abandoned, promise. ) To all others who've reviewed, THANK YOU! I love these Rentkids stories.**

**ROGER**

Annie had baked a cherry pie, but Roger wasn't allowed to eat it. He wasn't even allowed to touch it because Annie knew he was going to stick his fingers in to taste the filling. He sat on the kitchen counter, pouting, as Annie put the finishing touches to it.

"Not fair," he declared, imitating what Maureen usually did as he crossed his arms. He banged his kiddie-sized Adidas' against the cupboards underneath the counter to emphasize his feelings. Annie tsked.

"I promise I'll bake you your own pie later, Rog. This isn't for you." She told him for the millionth time.

"Who's it fow? D'you have anothew little boy?" Roger felt a pang of jealousy. In his four-year-old logic, Annie was only supposed to have eyes for him and not anyone else. If there was another little boy, he was gonna get mad. His nursemaid laughed heartily and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Where in the world did you get that idea? You're my only little boy, Roger, you know that," Annie replied.

Roger felt slightly better and he allowed his frown to lift a little. At least there wasn't another boy, but he still wasn't getting the pie. "Fow Daddy?"

His Daddy was upstairs in the big room, which Annie called the 'study', behind the giant desk Roger loved to hide in whenever he and Tommy and Maureen played hide-and-seek. He had to be careful whenever he was there though because if his Daddy saw that one of his papers was missing or if the pens were out of place, he'd be mad and yell at Annie.

"No, honey, not for your Daddy. Daddy doesn't like cherries remember?"

Roger shrugged. "I dunno."

Annie finished with the pie and she placed tin foil over it to keep it from getting cold. Roger licked his lips. He wanted to stick his fingers in so badly. He liked sweet things. He liked fruit too. Annie baked the best stuff.

"This is for the family who moved in next door. Remember Mr. And Mrs. O'Reilly moved to California and left their house empty?"

Roger nodded. He remembered. Mr. O'Reilly was the grouchy old person who smelled of tobacco and smoked all the time with his Daddy whenever they had a party, and Mrs. O'Reilly was the woman who loved to pinch his cheeks and give him gingerbread men that were hard as rocks during Christmas. Roger was glad they were gone. One day a truck just came and ate them and all of their stuff up. He'd even drawn a picture of it happening and it was upstairs in his room.

"They have a little boy and a little girl and I baked them the pie to welcome them. If you went somewhere new with your Daddy and lived there it would be a scary thing, right?"

"Are we goin' away?" Roger's lip quivered. He hated going away and leaving Annie and his friends. He'd done it two times already. His Daddy had taken him one time to Disneyland (which he'd liked but it wasn't as fun without Annie or Maureen or Tommy) and the other to Japan (which he'd hated because he'd understood no one and the food had been weird).

"No, I'm just saying that the little boy and girl are probably sad right now because they miss their old house. So we're going to give them a pie to make them feel better," Annie explained patiently.

"When am I going to get _my _pie to make _me _feel bettew?" Roger asked bitterly. The mention of the little boy getting Annie's pie got to him. So there _was _another little boy.

"Oh Roger," Annie kissed him again and lifted him from the counter to lower him to the floor. "Your pie will come _later _and you can help me do it. For now, you're coming with me next-door to welcome our new neighbors."

"I don't wanna!" Roger declared. He wanted to throw the pie at the new little boy's face and, when that happened, he was going to laugh and laugh. That was for taking his Annie and his pie. He started to bolt for the kitchen door but his nursemaid was too quick. Annie got him by the waist and she carried him towards the coat closet where both father and son kept their outside things. Roger kicked and screamed in protest the whole way.

"Oh c'mon, Roger, it isn't that bad…" Annie crooned to her charge as she forced a windbreaker on the little boy. "Daddy's going to hear you and you know how much he doesn't like noise…"

"I don't care! I'm not goin'!" Roger exclaimed, forcing to keep the windbreaker off. He stomped and clomped and tried to get away from Annie again, but she knew him too well. Before Annie could scold him or anything, a door slammed upstairs and Roger froze.

"Annie…PLEASE keep that boy under control. PLEASE. Not today." His Daddy's voice sounded tired, but it was still loud and strong. "Roger! Do what Annie tells you!"

Mr. Davis didn't come down so Roger didn't see him, but the little boy still nodded automatically. His Daddy rarely called him by his name. In fact, he was rarely called at all.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Davis. Roger and I were just on our way out to meet the new neighbors," Annie called.

"I won't have this screaming in my house. Not a peep, understand?" A door slammed upstairs again and then silence. Roger stood still and nothing could be heard in the whole house but the sound of the giant Grandpa clock tick-tocking softly by the stairs. Was his Daddy gone?

"Yes, sir," Annie whispered before looking back at Roger. "Now see what happened? C'mon, baby, let's just go and give the pie…"

Roger allowed her to help him put his windbreaker on but kept his scowl. Tommy had said once that when he did his face like it, he looked like his Daddy, because Mr. Davis was always frowning, and Roger had liked the remark. He wanted to be like his Daddy when he grew up. Maybe then his Daddy would notice him more.

Annie took his hand, got the pie from the kitchen and led him outside, careful not to slam the heavy wooden front door on their way out. Roger kept his stare straight ahead at the big gray and white house where the new little boy who was gonna get Annie's cherry pie lived. He wished the truck would come and eat the new family and the little boy up like it had with Mr. And Mrs. O'Reilly so he could have Annie back to himself.

_Ding-dong!_

A woman with yellow hair answered the door with a huge smile on her face. She was in a dress and an apron, like Annie was. Roger wondered if this was the new little boy's nanny.

"Good afternoon, how may I help you?" the woman asked them. She peered down at Roger, still smiling. Roger looked back at her with his frown.

"Hello, you must be the Cohens. I'm Annie Williams from next door…" Annie said. "Welcome to the neighborhood! We brought you a pie."

She offered the pie dish to the woman, who took it graciously. Roger's tummy grumbled.

"Nice to meet you too, Annie! Is this your son…?" she looked down at Roger again.

"Oh no, no, this is my charge, Roger Davis. I'm his nursemaid. He and his father are the ones who own the house…that one right there across the street. I've been taking care of him since he lost his…"

The woman nodded, seeming to understand. Roger wondered what they were talking about. She offered her hand and Annie took it.

"I'm Lisa Cohen. We just moved here from the city. Change of scenery, you might say. No place to raise children, Manhattan," She bent down to Roger's level and got in his face, which made him want to swat her, like he would to an annoying fly. He hated it whenever grown-ups treated him like a baby because he wasn't. He was a big kid. Four was a big kid age.

"Hello Roger, how are you today?" the woman said in a singsong voice. Roger inched away from her.

"Roger, this is Mrs. Cohen. Mind your manners, honey," Annie urged gently.

"I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Cohen," he answered automatically, his mind still set on the little boy who was going to get _his_ cherry pie.

"That reminds me…I have a son just about your age. How old is Roger, Annie?"

"He's four, Mrs. Cohen. Just turned four this July,"

"My son Mark is five. But he's small for his age…" Roger watched as Mrs. Cohen reached for something behind her and saw as a boy, just as big as he was, emerged. He had short blonde hair and huge glasses on his face. He was wearing brown pants (unlike Roger who was in jeans), a light blue button-down shirt (again, unlike Roger, who had his staple collared shirt on) and clean sneakers (finally they had something in common). His hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants and his lips were pressed tight. Roger gawked at him. _This _was his competition for Annie's pies? He didn't feel threatened at _all._

"Mark's shy," Roger heard Mrs. Cohen whisper to Annie. "Mark, this is Roger, our new neighbor who lives in that house," she pointed, "and this is Annie."

Mark caught Roger's eyes for a second before shyly hanging his head.

"Hello," he muttered.

"Do you want to go and play with Roger while Mommy and Daddy fix up the new house?" Mrs. Cohen offered. "They gave us a pie for dessert later. When you come back I'll give you a slice."

Roger sensed that this kid had no friends and, since he posed no threat to him, he stepped up and studied the boy in front of him. What was his name? Mark?

"I haves fwiends we can play with. They don't live that faw. We can go to the park if you wants," Roger offered slowly, still testing the waters. Mark looked up.

"You'd play with me?" he asked carefully, as if he too was sizing up Roger.

"You like caws (cars)?" Roger asked.

"Yeah."

"You like Legos?"

"Yeah."

Roger looked up at Annie. Finally, a little boy he could play with. Tommy was too much of a big kid sometimes and Maureen was a _girl. _"Can he come ovew (over), please? We won't make noise, I pwomise."

Annie chuckled. "Not sad about the pie anymore?"

Roger shook his head, the discovery of a kid just like him and who'd most likely be his new friend more exciting to him than the idea of a pie. Well, almost. At least the loss of the pie was bearable now.

"Well, if his mother approves…Mrs. Cohen?"

Mrs. Cohen beamed and gently pushed Mark outside. "Of course, of course." She sighed happily. "You don't know how thankful I am. Mark is…he has a hard time…mingling. His sister, Cindy, is much more people-oriented."

Roger watched Annie smile. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"C'mon Mahk," Roger took Mark's hand in his and started to lead him down the Cohens' driveway. "I'll haves Annie call Tommy and Mauween over so they can meets you too."

Mark looked excited himself, though he was still pretty shy. But Roger could see a hint of a smile working its way out. "What's inside the pie?"

"Huh?"

"The pie my Mommy said you gave," Mark said. "Is it choc'late?"

"No. Cherry. Why?" Roger asked. He decided not to mention his plan of throwing the pie into his face. He saw as Mark stuck his tongue out like he'd just tasted something bad.

"Yuck. I don't like cherry. I don't like fruit pies. Just choc'late."

Roger beamed. There was no need to worry about him losing Annie's pies after all. He was going to like this kid just fine.

"You're my fwiend now," he slung his arm over Mark's shoulder.

TBC


	4. Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

**A/N: To anyone who's interested, I base the four-year-old and five-year-old talk and logic on my sister, who's the same age as kiddie Roger. She talks the same way. Hahaha.** **And my other story, 'The End of the Season', is going to be updated in a while, like, in an hour or so. So all those who've been wating for it, it's gonna be up in a few :) Cheers!**

**MARK**

Since he and Roger met, Mark had been going to Roger's house almost every day. He'd already met Tommy and Maureen (Tommy had given him a wide smile and a "Hi, nice to meet you, Mark" and Maureen had given him a "You look funny…but I like you" then had waved her wand over his head, making him her friend) and he liked them both (though Maureen scared him a little sometimes since she yelled a lot and laughed loudly, which startled him). He spent a lot of time with Roger though because…well…he liked Roger best. Roger was as old as he was and lived right across the street. Almost every morning, Roger and Annie would go to their front door and knock, then ask if he wanted to come and play. Mark actually waited for them by his bedroom window and thundered downstairs whenever he saw Roger and Annie coming up the street. Every morning the sun was shining and the birds were singing and they could go to the park or ride Roger's red wagon with Tommy and Maureen or do millions of other things. Mark liked it very much in Scarsdale, even more than he liked Manhattan. In the city, they lived in a big old building with a doorman and it wasn't half as cool as a _house _(Mark was still getting used to the fact that when he opened the front door, he'd be outside and not just in a hallway). And in Scarsdale, he had friends. He didn't have any back in the city since he rarely went out and hadn't started school yet. He'd thought it was cool, just being in his room with his toys and playing by himself; it was only now that he discovered that playing with another kid was much much more fun, especially if that kid was Roger.

"'Kay, I'm the Red Bawon, and you're the Blue Bombew," Roger held the metal vintage toy plane high above his head and made funny 'plane noises' with his mouth. "Ready? EEEUUUURRGGHH…BSSSHHH! RATATATATATATAT!"

Roger waved the red plane over his head and dive-bombed it into the Lego tower they'd just built. The tower smashed to the floor and shattered into a million little Legos. Mark waved his own plane around in victory.

"We've destroyed Duke Dastardly's Evil Tower. Good job, Red Baron. Over," he mimicked how people did it on TV. Tommy laughed from Roger's bed. He was there reading a book. Maureen wasn't with them like she usually was because she'd gone on vacation with her Mommy and Daddy to somewhere called Pants (France). He looked at Tommy. Why was he laughing? "What?"

"I don't think you say 'Good job', Marky," Tommy answered.

Mark blushed. "That's what my Mommy and Daddy say when I do somethin' nice…or great…sowwy…"

Something always went wrong with how he talked whenever he was ashamed or nervous; he'd sound like Roger.

"No no no, don't be sorry. Pilots just say it in a cooler way, that's all.…" Tommy said.

"Like what?" Roger wanted to know. He picked up his plane and brushed it off then grabbed a couple of the Legos, held it high above his head and threw them down on the floor. It was a lot of noise and Mark winced. Roger liked noise for some reason. "BRRSSSHH! EEOOOOWWWW…BLAMMM!"

Mark was about to ask the same thing when he took a sideward glance at the window and saw something that caught his eye. Heshuffled towards the window and pressed his face onto the glass.Someone was walking out of the Davis' stone walkway and into a cab that was waiting nearby. He blinked to make sure he wasn't seeing things, 'cause he sometimes did, like the aliens he thought he saw in his bedroom. His Daddy said it was his hyperactive 'magination.

"Hey, isn't that…?"

"Hey, stop it, Rog, you know how your Daddy doesn't like…" Tommy started to say at exactly the same time, but before either boy could finish, Roger's bedroom door opened and all of them turned to look. Tommy quickly sat up in the bed and Mark found himself to be mute. Roger was looking at the unexpected visitor with his mouth hanging wide open.

"H-Hi, Daddy," he said. Mark couldn't move as he stared at the tall dark-haired man in front of him. He'd only seen Roger's Daddy once or twice. The first time was when he'd eaten dinner at the Davis house and Mr. Davis had entered the kitchen, where he and Roger and Annie were. When they realized he'd come in, Annie had stopped laughing and so had Roger. Mark soon realized that he was scared of Roger's Daddy. Mr. Davis hadn't even said anything that night when he'd first seen him. He'd just stared at Mark as he got a bottle of soda from the refrigerator then had nodded, before disappearing from the kitchen. Mark was reminded of a wolf whenever he saw Mr. Davis, like the wolf that ate Red Riding Hood or the wolf that blew the Three Pigs' house down. Mr. Davis was gonna eat him up if he did something wrong, he bet.

"H-Hello, Mr. Davis," Mark heard Tommy say. He tried to say 'Hi' or 'Hello' too like his Mommy had told him to ('cause it was polite)but no words came out. Mark suddenly wanted to go home and hide under his bed, even if there were monsters there.

"Roger," Mr. Davis' voice was low and cold, unlike his own Daddy's voice. To Mark it sounded as if Roger was in trouble. "I have something to tell you."

"Am I in twouble…?" Roger started to say, but Mr. Davis held up a hand. Mark winced.

_Oh no! _he thought, _He's going to spank Roger!_

But Mr. Davis didn't. Instead, Roger quieted and Mr. Davis started talking again.

"Don't interrupt, son," the man said sharply. "Honestly, I think this is the best decision for all of us. I don't think you were learning anything aside from ridiculous stories and songs from that woman. Even your manners are slipping."

Mark didn't understand, but he could see that Tommy could. Tommy's eyes grew wide.

"Roger, I've asked Annie to leave. You won't have a nursemaid any longer. You're a big boy now and won't need one. As a replacement, I've hired a housekeeper, Mrs. Phelps…Roger!"

To Mark's surprise, Roger bolted from the room, slipping past his Daddy who was blocking the doorway, and ran down the hallway. Mark could hear his shoes on the carpet. Oh no. So it really _was_ Annie whom he'd seen had gotten into the taxi a while ago. He hadn't been seeing things.

"Roger!" Mr. Davis turned around and ran after Roger. Tommy came next, and picked Mark up in his arms so they could follow, because Tommy knew Mark couldn't run because of his asthma. They caught up with them on the stairs, where Mr. Davis had gotten a hold of Roger, who was crying.

"Daddy, why'd you make hew go? I'm not bad…I didn'ts hurt hew…Daddy, why'd you make hew go?" Roger kept saying. Tommy set Mark down so he could stand on his own. Mark wanted to cry too, partly because he was scared and partly because he didn't want Annie to leave either. "Please, Daddy, I'll be good…I'll be good, I pwomise…please Daddy, bwing hew back…"

Mark watched as Mr. Davis held Roger by the shoulders. He expected Roger's Daddy to hug Roger because Roger was crying and because that's what Mommies and Daddies did; they made booboos and other nasty things go away. But Mr. Davis didn't do that. Instead, he got a hanky and wiped Roger's face with it.

"Stop it, Roger. This is not worth crying for," Mr. Davis said. Roger didn't stop. He kept crying and crying and Mark wished Roger's Mommy would come and pick him up instead, but then he remembered that Roger had no Mommy. Annie had told him Roger's Mommy was with the angels. Roger had never known her.

Mr. Davis looked up and Mark froze when he realized he'd seen both him and Tommy watching.

"Thomas, go home. And take Mr. Cohen home as well. If you need to call your nanny you can do so using the hallway phone…" Mr. Davis told them. Mark felt scared when Roger's Daddy said his name. Was he a mind-reader or something? It only made him a billion times scarier. Mark imagined a wolf that already knew what you were going to do before you even did it. He was going to get eaten for sure. He was dead meat.

"Y-Yes, sir, Mr. Davis," Tommy said, then went to go to the hallway phone. Mark just stood there like his feet were Superglued to the floor and watched Roger with his Daddy. He was so scared that he didn't notice that his pants were already getting wet and a small puddle was forming around his shoes.

* * *

Mark didn't see Roger for a while after that. Roger never came out of his house, and Tommy and Maureen didn't know what to do, so they stayed at Mark's house to play. It was fun and all, but Mark couldn't stop thinking of his friend. He remembered his little 'accident' in the Davis house and wondered if he'd only made things worse, even though Tommy had cleaned it all up before Roger's Daddy had even noticed. Was Roger lonely? Was he okay? Did his Daddy take him away? Mark's Mommy dropped by the house once in a while and once, Mark caught up with her. 

"Mommy, Mommy, how's Roger? Is he okay? Is he, Mommy?" he asked, hopping around his Mommy's legs, his glasses falling to his nose as he did. Mrs. Cohen gave him a sad smile as she adjusted his glasses.

"He's sick, that's all, Marky. Don't worry, his Daddy and Mrs. Phelps are taking good care of him. You'll be able to play with him soon." She gave him a little pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, but Mark wasn't comforted. Roger was sick? Mark felt awful about it.

He made an extra-special card for Rogerall day after his Mommy told him about Roger,to make him feel better, and decorated it with lots of dinosaurs (he liked dinosaurs), cars (Roger liked cars) and drew himself, Roger, Tommy and Maureen in. There was even a gray wolf crayoned into a corner that was about to be stomped by a huge T-Rex. He didn't know how to write yet, but he scribbled in what he thought was a 'Get Well Soon' and had his Mommy bring it over to the Davis'.

Soon, his Mommy allowed him to come with her for a visit.

Roger looked at Mark when he came into the room. Toys were all over the bed, new ones and old ones, and a train set was running on the floor. Balloons were tied to the bedposts. Mark's Mommy carried him over to the bed so he wouldn't step on all of the stuff on the floor, then left them alone ("I'll just talk to your Daddy a while, Roger, I'll be back. Mark, don't wear Roger out, okay, honey?"). Mark couldn't believe how different Roger looked. He was smaller now and looked like a balloon that had the air whooshed out of it. He pushed his glasses up his nose and just quietly sat there, his small hands on his lap and waited for Roger to start talking. He didn't want to start 'cause what if Roger didn't want to talk? He didn't need to worry too much though because Roger talked almost straight away.

"I'm sick," Roger told him sadly. "And I don'ts got Annie to make me feel better."

Mark scratched his nose. "I made you a card to make you feel better. Didja get it?"

"I likes it. I likes the caws and the dine-saws..." Roger smiled. "Thank you, Mahk."

"You're welcome."

Mark sat there for a long time. Neither one of the boys spoke.

"Annie was my fwiend," Roger sighed sadly. "Daddy took away my Annie. I don'ts got an Annie or a Mommy…"

Mark bounced a little on the bed. Roger liked bouncing."I'll be your friend," he offered.

"You're already my fwiend," Roger frowned.

"Then I'll be your _best_ friend." Mark returned. He'd heard the term from Cindy and had thought the idea was cool,'cause you had your friends, then you had a best friend.

Roger looked confused. "What's a best fwiend?"

"It means…that…I'll share all my stuff…and I'll tell you all my secrets…and I won't go 'way," Mark answered, sharing how much he knew about being 'best friends'. He said the last thing about going away to make Roger feel better. He really wasn't going to go away like Annie and Roger's Mommy did. He was going to be there with Roger forever, even if Roger's Daddy scared him. To his surprise, Roger's face lit up.

"You won't go 'way like what my Mommy or what my Annie did?" he asked. "You pwomise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Mark beamed. Maureen had taught him that just the other day, when she'd made him swear not to tell anyone that she'd finished all of the Cohens' ice cream stash in their freezer.

"I'll be your best fwiend too. And I won't go 'way, pwomise," Roger said. He started to sit up. "Y'wanna play?"

"Can I play with the train please?" Mark eyed the train set. He wanted to try it so badly. He'd be Engineer Mark, like his Daddy, and he was going to save all the girls who were lying down on the tracks with their hands and feet tied.

"Okay," Roger beamed. "I'm the bad guy…"

Mark couldn't wait to get home and tell Cindy about his own best friend.

TBC


	5. Septembers

**A/N: Thanks to all those who've already reviewed! Here's Maureen for you. :) **

MAUREEN

Maureen hated the fact that, in their school, everyone had to wear uniforms. Whenever she came home from school she gladly changed out of her navy skirt and blazer and threw them all over her bedroom floor, eager to get into her normal clothes. She knew Tommy didn't like the uniforms either because every chance he got he loosened the tie he was wearing or took off his own blazer. She envied Mark and Roger as she and Tommy walked them to the kindergarten classrooms because they weren't required to wear the uniforms yet. Mark was dressed in cords and his usual shirt that had lots of buttons, and Roger was in a red shirt with the little green crocodile on the left side and khakis. Both boys' hair were neatly set in place: Roger's was brushed back and Mark had his hair sticking up like a porcupine.

"Why'd you always dress funny, Mark?" she asked as they walked. She noticed that he was always in clothes that made him look like a little grown-up. Mark looked down at his shirt and cords.

"This is funny?" he asked innocently, blinking back at Maureen with bright blue eyes. Maureen fixed his glasses since they were tilted. "My Mommy picks out my cwothes…"

"It's dorky," Maureen said bluntly. "But it suits you."

"Mo, that's not nice," Tommy said. Both Roger and Mark were holding his hands as they walked up the school steps, swinging their respective car and dinosaur lunchboxes.

"What's dowky?" Roger asked, looking at Maureen. Since Annie left, Roger wasn't his cute chubby self anymore. He was thin, but not grasshopper thin, and Maureen's Mommy, when she first saw him like it after they got back from France, had brought him home to their house and had given him lots of cookies and ice cream. Maureen didn't like Mr. Davis as much now, especially since he sent Annie away and made Roger miserable. Mrs. Phelps was an old bat who looked like…like…well, she didn't look nice, and that was that.

"Something that's not Mark," Tommy replied before Maureen could answer.

"Did you go to kindewgawten, Mauween?" Roger asked.

Did she ever! Maureen had loved kindergarten. She had aced every single thing that had been taught to her because her Mommy and Meredith had already taught her to read and write a little before she went. She had the teacher's attention every single day. Unlike Roger though, she'd been five when she started, which was when most kids started, because Mark and Tommy were starting and had started at five too. Roger was still four, but he was already going. His Daddy had brought him to the city to be tested and the people there said that Roger was smart. Very smart.

"Yeah. It's fun, I promise!" she said happily. "You get to color and read with the teacher and draw…"

"Can I dwaw caws?" Roger interrupted. Maureen shrugged, inching her bright blue glittery backpack up her shoulders. Roger was car-crazy. He liked it especially whenever he'd crash them into one another and would make loud noises. Boys were weird.

"Yeah, you can. You can draw anything you want. Just be sure you listen to the teacher good, okay?" Tommy told Roger. Tommy was in third grade this year. He was upped by one level because he was so smart. Maureen was normal, so she was in first grade since she was only seven. She felt proud that she had such smart boys as friends. They could be weird, but they were smart. Mark was smart too. He knew how to speak a little French because their housekeeper back in Manhattan was from France.

"Why'd you look so scared, Marky? You've been quiet since we were in the car," Maureen commented. Mark's Daddy had driven them all to school, since it was the first day. "You scared of your first day?"

Mark muttered something.

"What?" Maureen leaned over. "You gotta learn to speak louder 'cause you're in school now and the teacher will ask for your name and everything and she won't be able to hear you if you talk like that."

She tucked her curls behind her ears and bent down to get to Mark's level. He held his head down like a little turtle. Tommy and Roger stopped walking and Roger looked at Mark.

"Whassa mattew?" she heard Roger ask, but she let Tommy handle him. She focused on Mark, who was still looking down at his shoes. Maybe he was missing his Mommy already? If he was, that would be the silliest thing ever, because she, Roger and Tommy were there, weren't they? And he'd see his Mommy after school anyway…

"W-What if they don't wike me?" Mark said softly.

"Who won't like you?" asked Maureen.

"The other kids…" Mark muttered. "What if they make fun of me 'cause I dress weird…?"

Maureen's face burned. Okay, this was her fault.

"Oh Marky, they won't make fun of you. You look okay, I promise. I'm sorry, I was being a meanie when I said you dressed funny…" she said. She didn't know what she'd do if Mark cried because of her. She didn't want to make him cry. He was her friend, even if he was a little kid.

Mark looked up, looking sad and upset. "You were?"

Maureen had to force herself to nod. She hated admitting she was wrong. "Yeah, I'm sorry, Mark. You okay now? Roger will be there with you…and…and Tommy and me will be here too."

"Yeah, I'm with you, Mahk," Roger declared. "We can sits together and play, like we do in my woom (room). I'm not gonna go 'way, remember?"

Maureen felt relieved when Mark finally smiled.

"'Kay…" he said, getting a hanky from his pocket and wiping his nose roughly with it. Maureen helped him, even though it was gross, because she wanted to show Mark how sorry she really was. "Thank you, Maureen."

They continued their walk to the kindergarten classrooms and, when they were finally there, Roger let go of Tommy's hand and grabbed Mark's.

"We'll come back for you later, okay?" Tommy said. "Roger, don't put anything that isn't food in your mouth, okay? Ask your teacher first. And Mark, don't be scared. You'll do great! Okay?"

Tommy gave them a thumbs-up and Roger and Mark returned it with their own versions. Maureen laughed. Roger did the bad finger instead of the thumbs-up.

"Heyyyy, that's bad," Mark called attention to it. Tommy took Roger's small hand in his and corrected it.

"There, Rog. Don't do that again or you'll get in trouble. 'Kay?"

"'Kay!" Maureen opened the door for both little boys to enter. They waved at her and Tommy. "Bye, Tommy! Bye Mauween!"

When the door was shut, Tommy and Maureen hung out for a few seconds more, watching Mark and Roger settle down inside their classroom, before looking at each other. Tommy put on his blazer. He'd not been wearing it the whole time.

"Time to go, meanie-Mo," he grinned. Maureen stuck her tongue out at him.

"You, sir, are very rude," she said as a response. "Hey, you gots my lunchbox!"

Tommy looked down at his hand and saw that he _did _have Maureen's Minnie Mouse lunchbox. Maureen looked down and saw that she had Tommy's Batman one.

"EW! COOTIES!" they both exclaimed and immediately switched.

"We prob'ly grabbed the wrong ones in the car," Tommy said.

"Yeah, 'coz I wouldn't want your _boy _stuff…" Maureen made a face.

"I don't want your _girl _stuff either. Gross," Tommy returned. "C'mon, let's go to your classroom."

"You don't havta go with me! I can do it myself!" Maureen said.

"My Daddy says gentlemen have to escort the ladies," Tommy explained.

"I'm not a lady yet! I'm a girl!" Maureen retorted. She couldn't believe Tommy even thought of going with her. She wasn't a sissy or anything. It wasn't like she couldn't walk or there were dragons in the hallway or whatever. Her classmates might think she had a boyfriend. EW.

"Fine." Tommy shrugged. "I'll see you later."

He walked away, carrying with him his Batman lunchbox and the brown messenger bag he used. Maureen shook her head, imitating the tsking her Mommy did. Honestly, Tommy was so grown-up sometimes Maureen wondered if he was really a kid.

* * *

For their third day in the first grade, Maureen's teacher, Mrs. Alder, had the children draw their families with crayons and markers. 

"Draw yourselves with your mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters, so you can give it to them after school as a surprise."

Maureen had a seatmate, Cindy, who was Mark's big sister and whom she really didn't like. Cindy was mean. She often grabbed Maureen's crayons when she wasn't looking and used them until the points were gone and all were left were stubs. When Mrs. Alder told them to bring out their materials, Maureen placed her things to the side so Cindy couldn't reach.

"So you got any brothers or sisters?" Cindy asked, leaning towards her. Maureen wasn't sure if she should answer. No one was allowed to talk during drawing time. She shook her head.

"Aw, that's too bad," Cindy sneered. Her straight blonde hair was done in pigtails and tied up with pink bows. Maureen liked her hair because it reminded her of Sleeping Beauty, but she never said it out loud. "_I've _got a little brother. But he's stupid and looks weird. You're his friend aren't you?"

Maureen felt her face go red. Mark was _not _stupid and weird-looking!

"Yeah, so?" she had to say. She wanted to raise her hand and tell Mrs. Alder that Cindy wasn't working.

"So I'm not gonna include him in our family picture," Cindy colored her Daddy's shirt in with a blue marker then took a yellow one for her Mommy's hair. Maureen peered at the picture. Mark wasn't in it. Maureen pressed her lips together.

"But you gotta put him in! He's your baby brother!" she whispered harshly. Now she really didn't like Cindy. She wanted to take all of her Magic Markers and color Cindy's face with it so _she'd _be weird-looking.

"I don't like him. I have the best family in the world without him. He always messes things up. You can have him for yourself," Cindy answered haughtily. Maureen fumed. She turned back to her picture and finished it up, using every single crayon and marker she had to make it colorful and bright.

"Well, boys and girls, look what Maureen has done. What a pretty picture, Maureen!" Mrs. Alder picked Maureen's finished picture up and studied it. Maureen beamed, without glancing at Cindy once.

"Can you tell the class about it?"

"Of course, Mrs. Alder," she answered politely and stood up. Maureen loved to be watched and she didn't doubt she was going to love this moment because everyone in the classroom had their eyes on her. Normally she'd relish it for the attention she got, but today, she was going to relish it because she was going to show Cindy Cohen just how wrong she was about Mark. She got the picture and walked to the front of the class where she was sure _everyone _would see her.

"This is a picture of my family. There's my Daddy (he's a doctor), my Mommy (she's pretty and plays the piano) and that's me." She pointed to the pink person she'd drawn with a huge red smile on her face and a crown on her head. "I've also got friends, but my Mommy and Daddy say that they're almost my brothers. So this is my big brother, Tommy," she pointed to a blue person bigger than her own pink one, "and my little brother, Roger." She pointed to a little green person who was holding a red 'car' squiggle. "They're the only brothers I've had since forever and I love them even if they're boys. But last summer, I got a new brother, and his name is Mark,"

She pointed to a yellow person she'd drawn with huge black glasses, blue eyes and a smile.

"He's small and smart and I think he's the one of the greatest little brothers in the world. Roger and him play a lot. They make a lot of noise, 'specially Roger, but I love them forever. I have the coolest family ever and I wish _everyone _could have a family as cool as mine."

Mrs. Alder burst into applause ("Bravo, Maureen!") and so did the rest of the kids. Maureen was grinning as she walked back to her seat and folded her hands on the table like a proper little lady. Beside her, she saw as Cindy's face got redder and redder.

"You can't have him 'cause he's _my _brother," Cindy told her angrily. Maureen faced her.

"But he likes_ me_ better," she replied. Cindy shut up and Maureen felt triumphant.

TBC


	6. The Trouble With Girlsand Boys

**A/N: So sorry for the lack of updates. I'm actually supposed to be reading up on the history of Rome now (and study Accounting, and brush up on Law class), but decided to update instead. Hehehe. Anyway, please r/r! Thanks for all your lovely reviews! I'll get to the next one as soon as I can! **

TOMMY

His big brother, Ian, thought it was cool, and his other brother, James, thought it was worthy enough to be photographed to be displayed on the fireplace mantle in the living room just under the family portrait, but Tommy thought a black eye was nothing glamorous and wanted nothing more but to get rid of it. It _hurt _still even if it was four days later after it had been put there by Vincent Friedlander, and Tommy winced every time something touched it even accidentally, which was hard, especially when he was around Roger Davis almost all the time. Tommy was an instant hero in his eyes because of it, and Tommy was glad Roger was so enthusiastic, even if it was about that, because ever since Mr. Davis took Roger to the city some months ago to have his speech difficulty fixed, Roger hadn't been that smiley anymore, like what he'd been after Annie had left. He always came back a little sadder and quieter every time he spent time with his Dad, and Tommy didn't like it. In his book, little kids, especially Roger and Mark, should be always happy, even though he knew living in Scarsdale wasn't really that fantastic as other people thought it to be.

"Tell me again how you got it!" the six-year-old excitedly said as they walked down the hallway towards Maureen's classroom. Well, Roger wasn't actually walking. He was more hopping on one foot-walking backwards-jumping, which made Tommy tired just by looking at him. "Woooowww, it's so cool, isn't it, Mark? Did you knock him out?"

"Uh-huh," Mark agreed, looking as lost in admiration as Roger, though Tommy knew the kid was probably wondering how much it had hurt and was wincing inwardly at the thought. He walked in a behaved way beside Tommy, his large round glasses smudged with fingerprints and dirt, probably from recess. All three boys had their blazers off: Mark was dragging his idly behind him, Tommy had his swung behind his back, hanging by his two fingers, and Roger was swinging his around in the air in circles, making a flapping-whooshing sound as it did.

"Naw, I didn't knock him out," said Tommy patiently.

"Tell me again! Pleeeeaaaasse Tommy, pleeeeaaasse," Roger begged, skipping up beside him and tugging at the ends of his uniform, his green eyes wide. Tommy thought Roger looked like his Mommy every day. He remembered Mrs. Davis used to have the prettiest eyes, green like emeralds and deep like the ocean.

Tommy sighed, smiling. He knew Roger had practically memorized everything he was going to say, but he could never refuse. "Well…there was this mean guy in my class…"

"Friedlander," Roger filled in. Tommy nodded.

"Right, Friedlander (since he was now in the fifth grade, they had moved on to calling each other by their last names, like their Daddies did with people they didn't really know)…and there was this girl…"

"Porter!" Roger yelled.

"Uh-huh…Christine Porter…and Friedlander was harassin' her…"

"What's hair-raisin'?" Mark asked, looking confused.

"It's when you grab the girl's hair and pull and stuff, right Tommy?"

Tommy laughed at Roger's explanation. "Uh-huh, that's right, Rog…anyway, I went and helped her out…"

"Like Superman!" Roger raised his arms triumphantly. Mark looked at him.

"It can be Batman," he retorted. Roger frowned.

"Batman's got no powers. Superman does."

"But he still saves people," Mark countered. "That's why I like him. He's just a guy, but he can save the world." The seven-year-old rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "I wanna be like him when I grow up."

"Well, I could've been either," Tommy said to avoid a fight. He knew Roger wasn't one to back down, especially if he had something to say. "I got beat up though. Friedlander punched me, so I punched him back, then we got sent to the principal's office…"

"And then? And then?" This was Roger's favorite part. Often, Tommy pretended not to hear him, since he didn't like remembering it. "Say it, Tommy!"

Tommy sighed. "And then Christine Porter came up and kissed me to say thanks."

His face grew red as he said the words and Mark and Roger howled in laughter.

"GROSS!" Roger declared, covering his eyes with his hands.

"DOUBLE GROSS!" Mark added. "Ewww…"

"Yuck," Roger made a face. "You got cooties now!"

Mark shook his head almost frustratedly. "Girls are dumb. You got in trouble 'cause of one. I got in trouble too."

Roger laughed and Tommy saw as Mark's face turned red. "Yeah. Marky got the teacher mad 'cause he spilled paint all over the floor."

"It was Nicole's fault!" Mark defended himself. "I told you girls are dumb."

"Yeah, girls are dumb." Roger agreed with a nod.

"Girls aren't dumb," Tommy said. "You've got a friend who's a girl."

He rolled his eyes when the two little boys looked as though they'd been shot. Their mouths gaped open and their eyes went wide, like he'd just told them that the tooth fairy wasn't real. Tommy almost laughed at the sight of them.

"Who?" Mark demanded in disbelief.

"Yeah, who?" said Roger.

"Maureen," Tommy said. "She's a girl, isn't she?" This time, he laughed as Mark and Roger frowned in disagreement.

"Maureen isn't a girl." Mark said.

"She's nothin' but a sister." Roger said. "She told me she's my big sister, so that's what she is. She isn't a girl." Tommy snorted.

That was true. Maureen acted like such a boy sometimes. Sometimes even more than _he_ did, because Maureen loved to do things her way. She'd push, kick, punch whoever tried to stop her, like some crazy Spartan princess similar to the ones his Dad had told him about the other night, before he went to bed.

They got to Maureen's classroom. They always went home together. Tommy would fetch Mark and Roger from their first-grade classroom, and they would walk to Maureen's third-grade room before going to the playground to wait to get picked up by one of the drivers or the housekeepers. Mark's big sister, Cindy, never came with them; she rode her bike instead or she'd go over to a friend's house first. Tommy didn't care. He didn't like her anyway, never did. He knew she was mean to and about Mark. Maureen had a big mouth, but at least she was nice to Mark and Roger. Cindy was just…evil. She was a villain, like the evil Queen in Snow White or the wicked stepmother in Cinderella. Tommy hated it whenever Cindy sat beside him when he'd go over to the Cohens, and batted her eyes. He could just puke whenever she did that. Maureen told him once that Cindy liked him, and it caused Tommy to have nightmares for a month. The thought of a girl liking him, _especially _Cindy Cohen, made him cringe.

The three boys paused outside the door and made way for the third-graders exiting. Thank God Maureen and Cindy weren't classmates, but several girls paused to look at Tommy and giggled when they went out. To be polite, Tommy gave them a small smile, wincing as his black eye throbbed a little. He wished Maureen would hurry up.

"Hey, what happened?" said Mark suddenly. Tommy looked up, and was surprised to see Maureen on her way out of the door, but accompanied by a teacher and _crying. _Her hair was tousled and her uniform was a little dirty. A boy a little bigger than her, with brown eyes and dark hair followed them, scowling as he held his eye.

"What's going on?" asked Tommy, looking up at the teacher. Mr. Liemann, he believed Maureen had told him.

"Ms. Johnson here picked a fight today with Mr. Weston," Mr. Liemann said. "I'll be expecting your parents here tomorrow, Ms. Johnson."

"I don't wanna get kicked out!" wailed Maureen hysterically, making Tommy jump.

"I don't want to either! She's the one who jumped me!" The Weston boy said, looking as scared as Maureen. Mr. Liemann looked at both of them sternly.

"No one's going to get kicked out. I'm just going to talk to both your parents, and we'll decide for the proper punishment. We won't have the principal know just yet. Okay? Both of you, parents here tomorrow, all right?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay. Good day, gentlemen and lady," Mr. Liemann went inside the classroom again and closed the door.

"You in trouble, Mo?" asked Roger. Maureen was still crying. Tommy offered her his hanky.

"You're gonna give me a black eye, Johnson," The Weston boy grumbled as he walked away.

"Like you don't deserve it!" Maureen said. "Tommy, go on and sock his head off."

"I don't even know what happened," Tommy shrugged. He watched as Mark placed a small hand on his arm and told her, "It's okay, Mo."

"What'd you do?"

"_He _started it. Boys are so STUPID." Maureen stated it so vehemently that Mark backed away. "He called me a…"

Maureen paused, as if the word came up to her throat and blocked it. Tommy waited.

"A what?" Tommy asked, frowning.

"Yeah, a what?" Roger piped up. "Did he call you fat?"

"Or did he tell you you were weird?" Mark said. "Cindy tells me that all the time, but I don't care…"

Maureen looked at Tommy almost desperately. Maybe it was a bad word that they couldn't say in front of Mark and Roger?

"You can spell it," he suggested. Maureen wiped her eyes with his hanky.

"B…I…"

"Hey, no fair! We haven't learned to spell yet!" Mark said.

"B is for bat, and boy, and baseball. I is for ice cream, igloom, Indian…" Roger seemed to be reciting to himself.

"T…C…"

"T is for toys, truck and tell-phone. C is for cat, cuckoo clock and candy…" Roger went on. Tommy got it and told Maureen to stop before Roger heard the last letter and started reciting them at home in Mr. Davis' presence. The kid was too precocious sometimes.

"He called you a _what?_" He spluttered. Maureen nodded, her eyes blazing.

"So I jumped him. I almost poured paint on him but Mr. Liemann took the paint away," she pouted. "Now I'm in trouble. He got me to bring home a note saying I punched Zachary Weston."

Tommy felt his face go red. Socking Weston wasn't a bad idea now. Gentlemen never fought, Tommy knew, but this was something _bad. _It was far worse than Friedlander picking on Christine Porter. His Dad wouldn't say that word, not to anyone. Not to his Mom, not to any lady. He couldn't believe Weston actually had the gall to.

"So what'd you do?" he asked.

"What's the word?" Mark asked. "B…I…"

"B-I-T-C! I think it spells 'broccoli'." Roger supplied. Tommy almost laughed, but he focused on Maureen.

"I socked him in the mouth than on his eye. I hope he gets a bigger black eye. Bigger than the one you have. I hope a monster comes out and eats him. I hope…" Maureen was growing redder and redder, but then she stopped, her face like a storm. "I'm gonna ask my Daddy to beat him up."

Tommy sighed and shook his head. "People like them, Mo, you don't pay attention to. They're stupid."

"_He's _stupid. _Boys _are _stupid._ They're as dumb as rocks." Maureen growled.

"Hey!" All three boys said. Maureen giggled.

"I didn't mean you guys. _My _boys are the only ones who aren't stupid. You're all not allowed to be or else I'll sock you."

Roger laughed at the idea and Mark looked at her strangely. Tommy heard Roger whisper, "I told you she isn't a girl."

"Did he hurt you?" If Weston did, Tommy was sure he was going to come back and really take a hit at the little...whatever. Maureen shook her head.

"No…he was too scared to, I think."

"Who wouldn't be?" Tommy told her, and Maureen punched him on the shoulder. "Ow! Don't beat _me _up!"

"He called me weird too, 'cause I don't have friends in class and I'm onlyfriends with you guys." Maureen said. "I don't like the kids in my class. They're morons. I like you guys best. How can that be weird?"

Tommy felt the same. He really didn't like the kids in his classes either. They were...just not Maureen, Mark and Roger. He always felt right when he was with them, even though it _was _a little weird. The kids in his class also thought he was weird, since he was a year younger than the rest of them but always getting the top marks. They hated him up to a certain degree.

"Who cares, right? We're friends and I like it finethis way," he said.

"_Best _friends," corrected Mark. Maureen nodded, finally having calmed down.

"Yeah. I like it fine this way, too," she grinned. "They're all dumb."

"Let's go over to my house and have ice cream," Tommy suggested. "It's Friday anyway, so there's no homework. And my Mom rented a movie we can see..."

"Yeah!" Roger whooped. Tommy knew he liked going over to other people's houses snice he was often lonely in his own house. "Can you ask my Dad if I can go?"

"Yeah, sure." Tommy said. Maureen was smiling, and even Mark was glowing.

"Can we have popcorn and gum too?" Mark asked.

"We'll have everything!" Tommy raised his arms, grinning. "C'mon, let's go, the car's prob'ly already there."

"Can you teach me to fight while I'm there, too?" Roger asked. "Please, Tommy?"

"You don't fight, Rog, 'cause you're a gentleman. Just give him a big push and talk big, and that'll be okay. You might get in trouble if you fight." Tommy told him, knowing how much destruction Roger could cause once he gained control of his fists. His Mom wouldn't want him teaching Roger how to fight, and he didn't think Roger's Mom would approve to, if she'd know. Roger looked disappointed, but lightened up as soon as Maureen handed him a piece of peppermint candy, which everyone knew he loved. Maureen always had a stash in her bag for him.

"When Tommy isn't looking, I'll give you a few punching lessons..."

"Mo..." Tommy frowned.

"Pushing, I said pushing..." Maureen laughed. They began to walk down the corridor towards the playground. Tommy couldn't wait to get home and hang out with Maureen, Roger and Mark. They always managed to find fun stuff to do. One time, they even told ghost stories in his bedroom with all the lights off and the shades down, and another time, his biggest brother Michael took the four of them out to a candy shop and got them bags of candies each. He hoped either James or Michael was home so they could do it again. School wasn't always fun (his Advanced Math teacher gave him an 'C' the other day because he'd figured out another way to solve the problems, and he _did _get beaten up _and _kissed by a girl just recently), but at least his friends were always there.

"Hey, Mo," Roger said. "What's so bad if someone callsyou a broccoli?"

Tommy laughed.

TBC


	7. Mother's Day

**ROGER **

First grade was easy for Roger. He could count well and he knew his ABCs better than anyone. He could read and spell a little too ever since his Daddy had bought him the complete Dr. Seuss set, which Mrs. Phelps helped him out with sometimes. Tommy and Maureen read to him from the books sometimes too, and would teach him some words and sing songs with him (Tommy taught him the song about Tiggers the other day, and Maureen had taught him the 'Fairy Jackal' Frere Jacques song). School was like playing for him, except that he had to wear an itchy uniform all day that didn't allow him to run a lot and stuff. But everything else was easy (he got stars and smiley face stamps all the time), and Roger loved it. He always knew what to do and what to answer in school.

Well, until one day.

"Since today is Mother's Day, today for Art class, all of you are going to be making cards for your Mommies and bringing them home to her. Wouldn't that be fun? Your Mommy would love that I'd bet…" Mrs. Sherman, their teacher, smiled at them and clasped her hands together. "Go on, children, get your coloring materials ready…."

Everyone started talking excitedly. Roger heard the girl beside him named Abigail say that she and her brother and Daddy were taking her Mommy out to the city for dinner later. He heard as another classmate said that he had cooked his Mommy a special breakfast that morning with the housekeeper's help ("And she ate it all up, even though the toast was black and crispy and the pancakes were too soft."). He squirmed in his seat as he watched his classmates all got their crayons and markers out and grabbed a piece of brightly colored paper for them to use. Roger felt his ears go red as he searched for Mark within the classroom. Should he tell Mrs. Sherman that he had no Mommy?

Mark got back to their desks (he'd gone to sharpen his pencil) and sat down adjacent to Roger.

"What's wrong, Roger?" he asked softly, 'cause you weren't supposed to talk when the class was doing something. Roger knew the rules and so did Mark.

"No," he mumbled. For the first time, he was stuck. This was the first time in school that he didn't know what to do, and he didn't like the feeling. He felt like throwing up or running away. "I don't have a Mommy, Mark…who am I s'pposed to give the card to?"

Mark scratched his chin thoughtfully. He was about to say something when Mrs. Sherman approached their desks and set down paper cups with stuff like glitter and sequins and feathers in them.

"Mark, Roger, why haven't you started yet? Is something wrong?" She peered at Roger through her big glasses, making the little boy lean back into his seat. Suddenly, he didn't want to tell Mrs. Sherman that he had no one to give the card to. Somehow, it was his secret that he wanted only a few people to know about, because whenever he talked about his Mommy, she seemed to disappear bit by bit and it would come to a point where he'd never ever have her, not even in his dreams. Roger didn't want her to disappear. He wanted her to always be there with him, even though she was now nothing more but a framed photograph in his bedroom.

"N-No, Mrs. Sherman," he answered. She was nice and all, but Roger never really liked her. She smelled too strongly of perfume that reminded him of the wine that his Daddy had him taste one time and had made him dizzy. Mrs. Sherman straightened up.

"Okay then, just raise your hands if you need anything, okay?" She walked away, which made Roger feel better.

"We can share Mommies," Mark suggested as soon as Mrs. Sherman was pretty far away. "You can make a card for my Mommy. You're like my brother anyway…." Roger frowned.

"I got my own Mommy. She's just not here." He told his best friend. "I can't take your Mommy, Mark. She's yours. Like my Mommy's mine."

"Well you can give a card and send it up to Heaven…"

"How?" Roger had heard of Heaven before. He'd heard of it in church, where he went with his Daddy to every Sunday, and from Annie. She used to tell him stories of angels and things. She'd told him his Mommy was in Heaven.

"You can look for an angel postman…or you can have a pilot bring it there," Mark said thoughtfully. Roger rested his chin on his hands as he rested his elbows on his desk. Everyone was working now.

"I don't know where to get an angel postman…or a pilot." He pouted. "And it might get lost, 'cause Heaven is too far away. My Daddy's suitcase got lost once and he only went to Cal'fornia that time."

He watched as Mark chewed on his pencil. Mark liked doing that, especially when he was thinking. Roger wondered if there were pencils made out of candy 'cause wouldn't that taste better instead of old wood…?

"You can make a card for your Daddy instead," Mark shrugged. Roger looked at him. He'd never tried doing _that _before; the most he'd done was to present his Daddy with a cake that Mrs. Phelps had made for his birthday, and he wasn't even sure if his Daddy liked that one, because he only smiled just a little, unlike Mark's Daddy who laughed when they'd given him a frog from the garden for him to play with one time. He straightened up in his seat.

"You think he'll like it?" he asked uncertainly. Mark shrugged.

"You can try. _My _Daddy likes getting cards. Maybe yours would, too...even though he's not a Mommy. You can just make him a Daddy card."

It sounded like a good idea. Maybe Roger could finally get his Daddy to play more with him if he made him a card. Or maybe he'd be happier. His Daddy was always sad. Roger had never heard him laugh, not even when they'd gone to Disneyland and Mickey Mouse had come up to them to take a picture. Maybe he could make him smile again, like the little one he'd gotten when he gave his Daddy the birthday cake.

"Okay," Roger smiled.

"Okay." Mark smiled back, looking satisfied that he was able to help out. Enlightened, Roger scrambled to get his markers out from his desk as images of cars, superheroes and baseballs sprang in his head, excited to get them all on paper before they disappeared, for his Daddy's special card.

* * *

Roger ran the minute he got out of Maureen's car towards his house. He had his card in one hand and his backpack in another and he ran like he'd never run before. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of him as his leather shoes stomped on the cement pathway leading to the front door. 

"Slow down, Roger!" Mrs. Phelps scolded as he flew past her in the hallway. She took his backpack from him as he ran towards the stairs. "Where are you going to in such a hurry?"

"Upstairs!" he called back. The housekeeper merely sighed and shook her head at the little boy's answer.

Roger's feet led him to the second floor and he didn't even think as he thundered towards his Daddy's office, card in hand. He was just too excited to give it. He'd spent a lot of time on it and it turned out to be better than he thought it would be (he didn't put sequins or feathers in 'cause it was girly, but it still looked great; there were a whole lot of cars and stuff, and Roger had drawn in himself, his Daddy and even his Mommy in). Late afternoon sunlight shone in through the large windows that surrounded the house and bathed Roger in a warm golden light. The door that led to his Daddy's office was closed, but Roger grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open anyway.

"Daddy!" he said breathlessly.

Jacob Davis sat behind his desk, his head in his hands. He lifted his head as soon as his son's voice rang out in the room and frowned. Roger rushed to him.

"Roger, what in the world...?"

"I made you a card! From school!" he thrust the colorful piece of cardboard in front of his father, who didn't look at all pleased.

"Roger..."

"Daddy, look! It's for you! Look! Mrs. Sherman had us make it for Mother's Day...LOOK!" Roger couldn't understand why his Daddy wasn't even looking at the card, so he thrust it forward more. He was surprised when his Daddy suddenly grabbed him tightly by the shoulders, forcing him to look at his face. His Daddy had blue eyes, and now, to Roger, they looked as though they were on fire. His face had sort of twisted into something that reminded Roger of a monster, and suddenly, he was very afraid of his Daddy.

"Stop! Stop. What do you think you're doing? I _told _you to never come in here. I _told _you, didn't I? Roger! Answer me!"

"Y-yes, Daddy..." he stuttered. He could barely breathe. He was so scared. His Daddy was _yelling _at him and was _hurting _him. "Daddy...please don't hurt me..."

Jacob Davis looked as though he'd been slapped. Quickly, he let go of his son's shoulders and shook his head, inching away from Roger as if he were afraid that he _was _going to hurt him.

"Get out. Get out, please Roger..."

"Daddy..."

"Get out. Please. Go!" Jacob Davis raised his voice one final time and Roger, terrified and with tears in his eyes, ran out without looking back. He ran past Mrs. Phelps in the hallway, his vision blurry, like he was underwater.

"Roger, what's wrong?" she asked, though she knew what the cause of the problem was. He didn't bother to answer. He ran straight into his room and shut the door.

Once he was safe inside, he crept under his bed where he lay, his head resting on his arms, making his face wet with the tears that continuously slid down from his cheeks. The card was still in his hands. In a flash of sadness and anger, Roger took it and tore it up, right down the picture of the red car that held him, his Daddy and his Mommy, the three of them smiling and waving. His Daddy didn't want to see it anyway, and he had no Mommy to show it to. When he was done and had pushed it away, he looked up, and saw as his Mommy's photograph smiled at him from the dresser, looking like a princess with her long yellow hair and green eyes. Roger stared back at her sadly.

It wasn't fair. Everyone else had a Mommy except him. Mark did, Maureen did, Tommy did. He was never going to have his Mommy. He was never going to meet her. All he had was his Daddy, and his Daddy didn't even love him as much as Mark's Daddy did Mark. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. He just wished his Mommy were still there, maybe then his Daddy would love him more. Maybe she'd take him to the zoo like Maureen's Mommy did to them. Maybe he'd get kisses every night like Tommy did, even though _he_ was already a big kid. Roger wouldn't mind getting kisses. He wouldn't think they were icky, not if they'd come from his Mommy.

But he was never ever going to get them, becausehis Mommy was never going to come. She'd left him and she was never coming back. Maybe she didn't love him either.

Roger cried himself to sleep that night, safe in the darkness the space under his bed provided.

TBC


	8. Angels

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. Thanks for being so patient! School's killing me, I swear, so it's nice to be able to do this again. :) Thanks for all your reviews! I try as much as I can to link stuff here to their real, twenty-something lives in Rent, so you can call this a background if you will, though it's not really an accurate one since in the play Roger's Mom is still alive. So, it's a...semi-background? Haha. Maybe I can fix that Roger's-Mom-is-dead-in-play stuff in the later chapters so this can be linked to both the movie and the play. Anyway, enough with the chitchat. On with the story!**

MARK 

Winter in Scarsdale was always a magical sight, when the snow would land softly on the tiled roofs, paved walkways and jewel lawns, weary from autumn. Families all over the small, exclusive town would decorate their house with fairy lights, twinkly bulbs and candles to mark the beginning of the season. Mark loved Scarsdale during the winter. Manhattan had been fine and big and grand, but it never had what Scarsdale did. Here, there was enough space to build forts and snowmen and, if they could escape whoever-was-watching's eye, they could even sled down a nearby hill (though they'd never actually done it because someone was always on guard and was always sure they'd break their necks). Plus, there was always something to do, something to see. Tonight, for instance, he was going to go to his second Christmas party. Well, technically, they didn't celebrate Christmas, 'cause they were Jewish (they celebrated Hannukah instead, which was Mark's favorite 'cause he got lots of presents every time), but his Mom and Dad always thought it would be fun to attend. The whole town did, anyway. This year it was in the Collins' house, and for the first time, Mark stepped out of their car and into Tommy's house dressed not in his normal clothes, but in his 'dress up' clothes, which he only used for fancy things. Christmas parties were always fancy, wherever they went.

"What are you waiting for, dork?" his sister, Cindy, shoved him, making him stumble. "Get inside!" She reached out and pinched his arm hard discreetly, which she always did. Mark's eyes watered. At eight, he still wasn't used to Cindy's persistent pinching and shoving, something which their parents had no idea she did.

"Ooowww, Moooom," Mark whined for his mother, who was already well on her way towards the front door.

"Cindy, Mark, please," Mrs. Cohen sighed as she straightened up her coat.

"Cindy," said their father in a stern voice. He narrowed his eyes at the both of them and Mark rubbed his arm.

"She pinched me!" Mark whined. Mr. Cohen held up a hand.

"Enough. Cindy Alexandra Cohen you do _not _hurt your little brother, you understand? That isn't nice," He motioned for Mark to approach him. "Come here, Mark."

Mark approached his father, sniffling. The cold and the fact that the pinch _had _hurt was making his nose run. Mr. Cohen placed his large square hands on his son's shoulders and held him close. Cindy went to their mother.

"Hey, Mr. Cohen, Mrs. Cohen," Tommy's older brother, Ian, answered the door, letting warm yellow light out to shine over the snow-covered lawn. "Hey, Marky, Cindy. Merry Happy Chrisannukah!"

"Merry Happy Chrisannukah?" Mr. Cohen laughed. Ian grinned.

"My Dad said to make a greeting up that'll accommodate everyone."

"You should've gone with 'Good evening'," Mr. Cohen gave him a pat on the back.

They entered the house and Mr. Cohen gave Mark a squeeze on the shoulder, signaling that it was okay for him to go around and find his friends. He immediately detached from his family, intent on finding Roger (especially Roger because he hadn't seen him since the start of Christmas vacation) and Tommy and Maureen. The house was full of people and laughter and the sound of glasses clinking, and the air smelled of cinnamon and perfume, making Mark lightheaded. He bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Collins as he went around, and they directed him to the den, where they said Tommy and the others were, and Mark did find them there, with Maureen in a brand new dress and Tommy in a suit and tie, circling a boy Mark had never seen before.

"Hey Marky," Maureen greeted. "Is Roger with you?"

Mark shook his head. "No. I thought he was already here."

"He isn't. I haven't seen his Dad around either. Maybe they haven't arrived yet," Tommy said.

"Are they gonna come?" Mark knew enough to never expect when it came to the Davises. Sometimes they just vanished without telling anybody, like what they'd done last Christmas when Roger suddenly disappeared with his Dad to go to Switzerland or something. When they did that, not even Mrs. Phelps knew when they'd be back.

Tommy shrugged. "I dunno, man. We can wait, or we can call him up later. This is my cousin, Benny, by the way." He motioned towards the boy seated on the leather couch. Mark noted that Benny looked really bored, or looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. The boy stood up and held out his hand.

"Benjamin Coffin III," he corrected. "It's great to meet you…"

"Mark," Tommy supplied. "This is Mark Cohen."

Benny smiled, and Mark tried to grin back, but he couldn't. He couldn't decide on whether he was going to like Benny or not. "Great to meet you, Mark. How old are you?"

"I'm eight," he answered. "How old are you?"

"I'm ten-and-a-half," Benny told him, like he was so proud of being that old. He was as old as Maureen and Cindy.

"Where do you live again?" Maureen asked curiously behind Mark.

"Manhattan," Benny answered a matter-of-factly. "In the city."

"Mark used to live there, too, before he moved here," Maureen chirped. She didn't sound too happy to meet Benny. Mark noticed that Benny's eyes lit up as soon as Maureen said it.

"You did? Isn't it so cool? I've lived there all my life and it doesn't compare to _anything!" _Benny said, sounding all excited. "Don't you love it there? I mean, it isn't half as boring as _here, _no offense, Thomas."

"Sure," Mark saw Tommy roll his eyes. Eurgh. Mark decided that he didn't really like Tommy's cousin.

"Scarsdale's _way _cooler than Manhattan!" Maureen retorted, flipping her curls. "Don't be such a Know-It-All."

"I'm not! I'm only saying it 'cause it's true, isn't it, Mark? Have _you _lived there? There are, like, a jillion lights and buildings and cars that you can see every day…" Benny frowned.

"Actually, I like living here more than Manhattan…" Mark said in a not-so-loud voice, because he didn't want Benny getting angry with him or anything. But he really did like Scarsdale more. Maureen looked like she'd just won a million dollars when he said that.

"Okay, okay, enough with that. Chill out, both of you," Tommy stepped in. "Benny, you haven't been visiting here since you were five years old. You don't really wanna end up fighting, do you? And Mo, chill. Just chill."

Maureen humphed and sat down on the couch. Benny looked as upset.

"Maureen started it."

"You know, you're still as nasty as you were back then."

"Good thing too, so you'll stay away from me."

Mark watched as Maureen shut her eyes and bit back a scream. He looked quizzically at Tommy.

"Do they know each other?" he asked.

"Maureen met him a long time ago, when Benny and his parents used to visit here all the time. They hate each other's guts," Tommy shrugged. "I'm the referee, usually. Good thing you're here because at least there's a distraction."

A knock sounded on the door and they all looked up to see Ian, holding a small pile of nuts in his hand.

"Hey, you guys want some hot chocolate or anything? Benny, man, are you and Maureen at it again?" Ian laughed. "Why don't you guys just get a pair of boxing gloves and just go for each other?"

"'Cause she's a girl and a big sissy," Benny said.

"Am not!" Maureen answered back. She was about to say something else when Tommy stepped in again.

"Knock it off, man," he told Benny. "You know that isn't really nice."

"_She _isn't really nice," Benny folded his arms, then looked up at Tommy. Mark noticed that, when faced with each other, Tommy was the bigger one, even though at school, Tommy really wasn't the biggest guy in his class. "Where's the little baby? The one you always visited back then?"

"Oh, you mean Roger?" Ian asked. "Yeah, sometimes I forget that kid was the same little baby we played with back then..."

"Are they coming?" Mark asked Ian. Sometimes he wished he were part of Tommy's family because of all the cool older brothers Tommy got to have. He knew they were better than having a sister, especially Cindy. Tommy was lucky. Maureen and Roger were also lucky because they didn't have any siblings. But he guessed it was okay that he was just Mark because they all acted like his brothers and sister anyway. He just had to go home to a different house every day.

Ian shrugged. "I dunno, kiddo. Mr. Davis didn't RSVP back…I heard they're gonna be catching a plane to Australia early tomorrow…"

"They're moving?" Mark said, dismayed. Ian shook his head.

"No, Mark. I mean, for vacation or something. Or for Christmas. They never spend Christmases in Scarsdale, you know."

Oh yeah. Mark remembered. His Hannukah gifts from Roger were always bought from another country.

"Maybe we should call Rog up," Maureen suggested. "I want to tell him _bon voyage…_"

"Hey, I wanna see him," Benny said. Maureen looked darkly at him.

"How are you so sure that he wants to see _you?" _she said.

"Shut up, Maureen."

"Oh." Mark bit his lip when he realized Roger was most probably not coming to the Christmas party. "I forgot…."

"Aww, hey kid, don't look so upset," Ian came up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Man," Tommy sighed. "That kid's always leaving. We haven't even told him 'Merry Christmas' yet."

"He should be here. You know how Roger loves parties, y'know with the food and all," Maureen said. "Too bad. He would've liked coming before he has to go with his Daddy again. Mr. Davis can be really scary…brrr…I dunno how Roger can be his Dad sometimes…he was like Dr. Jekkyl before, I remember, when Mrs. Davis was still there, now he's all, like, Mr. Hyde."

Mark pretended not to feel upset, even though he really was. He was looking forward to the party because he hadn't seen Roger in a while, since they'd been busy preparing for Hannukah and all so they were always in the city or stuck inside the house. He was sorry he hadn't seen his best friend, because he knew too how Mr. Davis was. Now Roger was leaving and not coming back until vacation was over. Mark wouldn't probably get to see him that night either because they'd probably go home really late. It sucked.

"Hey, I have an idea…" Ian crouched down low and had them huddle up, all the while sneaking looks behind his back as if to see if anyone was watching them.

"What are we doing?" Benny sounded confused.

"Oooh! Is this a game?" Maureen said. "Can I be the 'It' or something?"

"Ian, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" Mark saw that Tommy's dark eyes were twinkling. Ian's too.

"You're a pretty smart kid, Tom. What do you think we can do to help your poor friend stuck at home while the rest of us are out here having a blast?"

Tommy answered his big brother with a grin Mark knew too well.

* * *

"Roger!" Ian called in a hushed voice as they stood outside in the cold on the Davis' lawn. "Rog!" 

The Davis house was dark, but Roger had his light on, so Mark assumed that he was still awake, probably reading again. Roger had never stopped reading after he'd mastered how. Mark had with him Roger's Christmas gift, which he figured could be given earlier than when they usually gave gifts to each other, since Roger could use it on the plane on the way to Australia (Ian said it was very far and would probably take more than a day to go to). His Dad had helped him pick out the thick picture bookof Peter Panyesterday and he figured Roger would like it, because Roger liked pirates and indians as much as he liked reading.

Maureen was hopping up and down in her white fur-lined coat. Mark wondered how many rabbits or things it took to make her coat. "Maybe he's asleep?"

"If he is, he won't get to see our present," Tommy frowned. Bits of snow were still stuck to his coat and his beanie.

"If he doesn't come to the window in a few minutes, you guys, we have to go 'cause your parents might be looking for us already," Ian said.

"Roger!" Benny tried it out. Maureen frowned at him.

"What makes you think he's gonna come when _you _call? He probably won't even remember you,"

Benny looked annoyed. "I can _try, _jeez. He's my friend too."

"Pipe down, you guys! Mr. Davis might hear us!" Ian said. "And I'm gonna be the one in trouble if he does."

The night was still, and their voices were the only ones that could be heard. Mark wished Roger would come before Ian made them leave. He felt really bad about him not being able to play or hang out with Roger for the past couple of weeks (which was weird because their houses were just in front of each other's, but Hannukah season was always a busy time). Maybe Roger was mad?

Tommy threw a snowball at the window and it landed with a loud _thump _and _splat. _Ian almost blew his top.

"Tom! No! You could break the window! That's it, we're going,"

"The window isn't going to break because I didn't pack the snow in enough, so there wasn't enough force to break the glass. Chill out…"

"We're leaving…"

A _whoosh_ sounded, and Mark looked up. Roger looked down at them from his window in a plaid bathrobe, his hair being tossed about by the wind.

"Roger!" Mark heard Maureen squeal. "Hey, baby!"

Mark grinned, thrilled that Roger had heard them after all. He saw as Roger made a face at the word 'baby', but looked happy at the same time that they were there.

"Hey what are you guys doing here?" he said. "Did you guys throw snow at my window? Were you having a snowball fight?"

"No, not really. Hey, we heard you were leaving for Australia," Tommy said. Their voices weren't that loud because they all knew Mr. Davis or Mrs. Phelps would hear. Roger made another of his faces.

"Yeah, I'm s'pposed to be asleep already 'cause our plane leaves really early tomorrow…Daddy has a conf'rence there." Mark saw as he squinted at Benny. "Hey, who are you?"

"It's Benny, remember? Tommy's cousin," Benny was smiling. "You were still a little baby back then..."

"Hi," Roger smiled almost shyly. He'd always been pretty friendly. "Hey, what're you guys doing here anyway?"

"The party's a total bore without you, and we wanted to give you a present," Tommy explained. "Since you're gonna be spending Christmas somewhere too far away and we don't want you to be too lonely…."

"Really?" Roger's eyes lit up. "What?"

"We made you angels!" Maureen announced, spreading her arms wide. "Look!"

They stepped aside so Roger could see the snow angels they'd made on the lawn, the biggest one being Ian. Mark grinned as Roger grinned.

"Oh wow! That's cool! For me? Angels for me?" he sounded like he couldn't believe it. "I've never gotten angels before."

"It's an early Christmas present,"Tommy said. "Now you'll have angels wherever you go. So you'll be safe and you'll never be alone."

"We're your angels," Maureen said. "Merry Christmas, Rogie!"

"My angels," Mark saw Roger play with the words in his mouth, saying them over and over, a small smile on his face. He knew Roger would like the present. After all, his Mommy was an angel too.

"I got you a present for Christmas. You can use it on the plane," Mark said. He held the brightly wrapped present up.

"We'll insert it through the mail slot for you. You can just get it from there so you don't have to come out here," Ian said.

"Thanks, Marky," Roger told him. His cheeks were already bright red from the cold.

"You'll come back, right?" Mark found himself asking out loud. He was always afraid whenever Roger went away that he'd never come back. You could never tell with Mr. Davis. He'd heard his parents talking several times about Mr. Davis thinking about moving.

"Marky! 'Course Roger's gonna come back. He's always gonna come back, no matter how many times he goes away. Right, Rog?" Maureen squinted up at the window.

"Australia's cool," Benny said encouragingly. Mark noticed that Benny seemed a lot nicer than he let on."There's kangaroos and koala bears and stuff. They're like giant stuffed animals."

"I'm never gonna go 'way, Marky, remember?" Roger grinned. "If I am, I'm gonna take you all with me, even Ian and Benny, 'cause you're all my angels. I'll get you a koala bear when we come back so you can put it in your room. For Han'kah."

Mark smiled, comforted at what Roger said. He didn't know where he was going to find another friend like Roger if ever he did move away, but at least for now, that wasn't gonna happen. Roger was staying, and he was always gonna be there.

"So you're not mad at me? For ditching you these past few days?" Mark had to ask, though his voice went a little tight like it did when he was little and was about totell his Mom that he'd wet the bed again. Roger laughed.

"You're silly, Marky. 'Course I'm not mad. You're my bestest friend. You're one of my angels. You can't be mad at an angel," Roger said simply, like he was explaining how one and one became two.

It was starting to snow when they finally said 'Merry Christmas' a last time before heading back to Ian's car.

TBC


	9. Finding Neverland

**A/N: Okay, I've totally messed up with the grades that everyone's in, because I based it on my own school. So to make it all clear, the kids are studying in a school where, by the time you're a highschool senior, you'd be 18. Collins, as of now, is 12 and in the seventh grade, Maureen is 11 and in the fifth, Mark and Roger are 9 and 8 respectively and in the third grade. Benny was just visiting in the previous chapter. ;)  
**  
**MAUREEN**

Her parents told her that it was a car crash, that Ian didn't feel any pain and that the angels took him to Heaven before he even realized it. They told her that it was nobody's fault, that it was what was supposed to happen and that nobody could have stopped it even if they'd wanted to. Maureen didn't understand. She didn't understand how Tommy could have three big brothers one day and just two the next. She couldn't understand how it was _supposed to happen _because Ian was only 17 and he hadn't done anything wrongShe couldn't understand how she could've seen him just the other day, and now she was never going to see him again, like how Mrs. Davis had gone without her being able to say goodbye.

"Such a tragedy…"

"I can't even begin to imagine how Thomas must feel."

"He was such a nice boy…."

It was a Saturday when they went to the cemetery. The sun was out and the birds were singing and flower blossoms rained down on them from the trees. Maureen was in a black dress again, and her Daddy squeezed her shoulder as the priest said the prayers and sprinkled the coffin with holy water. Tommy's family was right up front. Mrs. Collins was crying, and Mr. Collins was holding her. Maureen saw Tommy between James and Michael, and they were all dressed in black. When they all went up front to say goodbye, Tommy looked at her, and Maureen had never seen him look so so sad. It was the first time she also saw him crying and she felt something stir inside of her. She nearly opened her mouth to speak, but Tommy lowered his head and then quickly turned around to go.

"Thomas!"

Tommy didn't stop, and he began running. Maureen forgot everything she knew and ran after him. It was hard, because Tommy was a fast runner and she was in a _dress, _but she managed to catch up a little. No one went after them, but it wasn't like they wanted anyone to.

"Tom! Tommy!" she called out. "Collins!"

Tommy kept running and, wow, was he fast. Maureen couldn't believe how fast he was going, and how she couldn't keep up that easily (it really wasn't fair because she couldn't run as well in a dress, everyone knew that). Her long curls flew out from behind her as she tried to run faster, and she didn't let Tommy get out of her sight.

"Stop, Tommy, please!" she called out. She watched as Tommy suddenly slipped on the wet grass (leather shoes weren't good for running either) and landed on his knees by a bunch of huge grave markers. She gasped, startled. "Collins!"

Maureen rushed to whom she considered her oldest and best friend in the whole wide world (though she never declared it out loud) as fast as she could, her heart pounding like thunder in her chest. Tommy was still on his knees on the ground, his face in his hands. He wasn't making a sound, which scared Maureen a little. On the outside, he wasn't hurt or anything, just a little dirty, but Maureen knew Tommy was hurting more than she'd ever know.

"Tommy…" Maureen knelt down beside him, not caring about the grass stains her Mom had told her to avoid getting on her stockings. The grass was wet and the dew (or whatever it was that made it wet) soaked right through to her legs, making them itchier than ever (God, she really hated stockings), but for once Maureen didn't reach out to scratch them. Her hands were on Tommy's shoulders, which were trembling. "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question, she knew, but Maureen had to ask it. She really had no idea what to say. Tommy shook his head silently.

A bird chirped in the distance and flower blossoms kept raining down on their heads like snow. It was such a nice day, and to Maureen it seemed almost cruel that they had to be out there, feeling so sad and terrible because they'd just lost someone. Ian would've enjoyed today. He liked sunny days, because he liked to go out and play baseball. He'd taught them all how to play, even Mark and Roger, who were now little menaces once they were given balls. Maureen remembered his smile. She remembered how he used to pat her on the head and tease her as 'little Miss Maureen' because he claimed she was spoiled. She remembered how he used to play with her and Tommy when they were little and how he'd help them set up tents and things in the Collins' backyard. James and Michael were nice too but they were never as nice as Ian. She remembered a lot of things about him, and it made her really sad that that was how he was going to be from now on: someone she'd just remember. Just like Mrs. Davis, who was a little more faded and fuzzy in her mind each time she tried to think about her.

Maureen was surprised to feel a tear run down her cheek. Quickly, she wiped it away before Tommy could see.

"I don't know what to say…" she admitted softly. "I'm sorry, Tommy, I really am…he was my brother too, somewhat…I'm really sorry."

Tommy had removed his hands from his face and was now sitting on the grass, hugging his legs and staring at something far away. His eyes were glistening, like they were so full of tears that wanted to burst out, only he was holding them all in. Maureen bit her lip.

"I should go…" Maureen started, and she slowly got to her feet. But Tommy reached out, grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to startle her. She looked down at her friend and saw Tommy looking up sadly at her.

"Please stay," he said softly. "Please don't leave me, Mo…like he did."

Something tugged at Maureen's heart and she found herself sitting right beside Tommy and hugging him.

"I'll never see him again…" Tommy kept saying over and over as he hid his face. Maureen knew he was crying and just didn't want to show it. "Mo, I'm never going to see him again…he was my best brother…he was my best brother…he was my brother…."

"He was my brother too." She was crying as well, which she really hated doing, because her nose turned really red and her eyes puffed up. But she couldn't stop. She suddenly felt like a fountain with all the tears that were flowing down her face, all plop-plopping down to her dress. Her legs were really itchy now and it drove her crazy but she ignored them.

It was strange crying with Tommy because, for one thing, Tommy never cried and, through some weird way, Maureen saw him as a kid for the first time. All her life she'd always seen Tommy as a 40-year-old guy trapped in a kid's body, because he knew too much and acted like his mother was always there to watch his behavior. Now, as they sat next to each other, there was no 'Tommy Collins the smart kid' or 'Tommy Collins, model of good behavior'; it was just Tommy Collins, her best friend, who was a kid just like her who'd just lost his brother and who needed to cry like everybody else did when they were sad.

"It's okay, Tommy," Maureen assured him. "I'll stay with you. I'll stay with you, like, forever if you want me to."

Tommy nodded.

"Thanks, Mo,"

They sat on the grass quietly with a stone angel grave marker set right beside them, praying with its hands clasped.

* * *

The next afternoon found Maureen in the Davis house, where she babysat Roger (and usually also Mark) whenever Mr. Davis was out of town. Usually, Tommy went with her because everyone knew looking after Roger alone required two people, but this time he wasn't, and Maureen sat quietly on Roger's window seat as the little boy did his homework. Mark wasn't around today because the Cohens were out in the city to celebrate Mr. Cohen's birthday, so it was just her and Roger in the strange quiet of the Davis house. 

"Mo…?"

Maureen looked up from her gaze at her orange sneakers and stared at the small (Mark was bigger than him, and Roger was the smallest in his class) eight-year-old sitting at the study table, looking worriedly at her, his clean white Nikes perched on a huge toy truck underneath his chair. Roger's green eyes were bright, like they always were whenever he was paying close attention to something, and his wispy blonde hair had fallen into his face. He was also softly tapping his pencil on the table over and over. It was one of his habits that Maureen found annoying. _Tap tap tappity-tap _all the time. Roger just had to make noise wherever he was. If he wasn't tapping pencils, he was slapping his palms on railings, blackboards, walls or using his feet as instruments. It really drove Maureen crazy, but it was a good thing that the tapping wasn't as loud today.

"What?" She'd been thinking of Ian again.

"Where's Neverland?"

Maureen blinked at her charge. Sometimes, Roger said or asked the weirdest things, and she blamed it on overexposure to Tommy.

"What are you talking about?" Maureen found herself snapping a little, because deep inside of her she felt frustrated at something. Maybe it was because of Ian, or maybe it wasn't. But all in all, she really wasn't in the mood to try to understand what went on in Roger's head. She hugged her knees and stared at the fading sun outside. "Rog, just finish your homework, okay?"

"I can't finish until you tell me," Roger said as-a-matter-of-factly. Maureen turned to him again, frowning. She wished Tommy had come with her. She didn't want to get mad at Roger, but it was getting harder and harder to control her temper. She just wanted to be left alone.

"Why the heck not?"

Roger slid off of his chair and thrust his notebook at her. Maureen squinted her eyes as she read his squiggly kiddie handwriting.

"We have to write 'bout we want to be when we grow up. Mark wants to be an engineer, like his Dad," explained Roger.

"He hates Math," Maureen said. It wasn't a lie. Mark really did hate Math, and in fact he was terrible at it, unlike Roger, who was good in every subject he took up. Everything was just easy for the kid. Mark was only good in English and Science. Maureen already knew him almost as much as she knew Roger. Ever since Cindy had practically disowned him, she'd taken Mark under her wing more than she'd expected to when she first met him. Mark often frowned at her whenever she teased him by calling him 'baby brother' like she did Roger, but he never objected.

Roger just shrugged.

"I don't want to be like _my _Dad," he frowned. "I don't want to be sad all the time. My Dad's sad all the time, which why he always flies away."

Maureen bit her lip. She never suspected Roger to be so observant. "Then what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Roger played with his fingers as he spoke, his eyes shining, and looking almost hopeful.

"I don't want to grow up. I want to be like Peter Pan and live forever…"

Maureen raised an eyebrow. The kid was nuts. She had to find a way to keep Tommy from teaching him any new stuff for a while.

"_That's _why you want to know where Neverland is? Rog, you do know that…"

She was about to tell him that Neverland wasn't real, and so was Peter Pan; that fairy tales were only stories made so kids would feel better and forget about their problems for a little while, and that no one lived forever. _People die, Roger_, she'd been about to say, _people die and they don't come back. Ian died. Ian's dead and we're never going to see him again. _But she didn't, because Roger beat her to talking.

"…Because I don't want to make you sad." Roger said softly. Maureen stopped.

"Huh?"

Roger looked straight at her. "I don't want to make you or Tommy or Mark sad."

Maureen was confused now, but she was feeling more okay, like, she wasn't as annoyed anymore. Whenever she wasn't thinking about Ian and how he was gone, she felt okay. Roger was doing a good job with helping her. She straightened up in her seat and spoke slowly. "Rog, why would you ever make us sad?"

Roger sighed, like he was frustrated that she couldn't get it. "I don't want to be like my…like my Mom or Ian."

Maureen felt like her heart had been tugged when she heard Ian's name.

"Why wouldn't you? They were great people. Your Mom…she used to take care of me when I was little…and Ian…" Something blocked her throat when she said his name, and she couldn't speak anymore. It was okay though because Roger interrupted her.

"I didn't _mean _it that way. I mean…they left, Mo. They went away and they're…I'm not gonna see them again. And it made everyone sad. I…I don't want to grow up and _die. _I don't. I don't want to leave you and Mark and Tommy…I couldn't…"

Maureen found herself crying again, like she'd done with Tommy in the cemetery. The thing blocking her throat melted and big fat tears started falling down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, not wanting Roger to see her cry. There was something in what he'd said that touched her, like when she'd watched Bambi(and Dumboand Fox in the Hound)for the first time, and she could hardly understand exactly _why _she was crying, but she couldn't deny that she felt sad and happy and empty and lonely all at the same time. It was a sucky feeling, but then it felt good too to cry. It was like something inside of her was being released.

"Mo, don't cry…I didn't mean to make you cry…" She felt Roger's hand pat her head. Hearing his small voice and how scared and worried it sounded, she forced herself to look at Roger even though she knew she looked terrible, and wiped her tears furiously with her hands. She got a hold of his shoulders and pulled him closer so that their faces were only about five inches away from each other's.

"Sweetie, we all have to grow up, but I promise you, you, Mark, me and Tommy are going to grow up together, and when we do, we're going to leave this place and have great adventures all over. Just like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. We're gonna be _immortal _and no one will be able to touch us. We're gonna do that and we're always gonna be together, okay? No one else is gonna leave."

They were so close that Maureen could smell Roger's little boy scent that always hung about him: his bath time lavender soap, peppermint candy and the leathery smell he got from the cars or their sofas. He looked solemnly at her.

"I'm gonna live forever. I'm gonna be the boy who lives forever, and I'll only go away when all of you are gone. That way I won't be the one to make you sad."

Maureen didn't say anything more. Smart as he was, Roger still had a lot of things to understand. She reached out and hugged him and, for the first time, Roger didn't try to stop her like he usually did.

TBC

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I'm afraid the next one will have to sit out for a while too because I'm sobusy that it isn't even funny anymore. I barely have enough time or strength or willpower to write because I get too tired from school. Please leave me a nice review though because feedback is always like cake and milk to me. They really truly help me to write faster because I know just how many people are reading and waiting for the next chapter, and I don't like keeping anyone waiting. :) I hope you all are having a nice summer so far! **


	10. Their Father's Sons

**A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I read every single one that came through since the last chapter and they all rocked, seriously. And you guys rock. Thank you for waiting this long. :)**

**I actually did a very stupid thing: I accidentally deleted the already-finished next chapter from my laptop. So I had to redo EVERYTHING (rawwwrr) just so I could post. This one will obviously not be the same as the one I'd already written (RAAAWWRR) but I don't think it really matters since I was the only one who'd seen that thing anyway. Guh. What a waste. Anyway.**

**TOM**

Tom had always known he was different, and he wasn't exactly sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. It wasn't anything about race (because he was damned proud to be who he was and people didn't mind anyway, not anymore) and it wasn't about money (the only thing Scarsdale cared about, and his Daddy had a lot of that). It wasn't about intelligence (they were used to him by now) and it wasn't about looks(he had no obvious deformities whatsoever so he guessed he blended in). No, it wasn't any of those at all.

All throughout his life he'd felt as though he somehow stuck out like a firefly growing up believing he was a butterfly, though he was never able to pinpoint just _why_. Day and night, light and dark. Things and creatures suited for specific purposes, having different instincts. There was always something in him that he felt people (himself included) didn't know, something people would be actually _afraid _to know because they wouldn't understand, but he'd never come to terms with it.

At fourteen, Tom Collins had finally figured out what made him unlike any other kid he knew.

"Hey Tom. Tom."

Tom didn't look up from his Chem 1 homework when he heard Mark call out his name, waking him from a temporary trance. The silence of the Collins' house came back to him like a wave, sharply interrupted by the constant spiking of tortured notes from the nearby piano that Roger was playing. The bottom part of his legs dangled lazily from the opposite end of where his head lay on his mother's suede loveseat that sat in the great room, where him, Roger and Mark were. Even if he tried, it was difficult for him to see either of them since his book and his legs were blocking his view. He was nearly as tall as his father now, just as all three of his brothers had been when they were his age. Puberty had hit a few months shy from his thirteenth birthday and now it had settled in beautifully. Maureen had confessed to him that she was in love with his voice since it made him sound like James Bond. He thought she was crazy for more reasons than one.

"Hm?"

His pencil flew all over the paper, canceling assorted measurements from the solution, ending up with one definite answer. _Cancel centimeter, multiplied by a hundred meters gives you the measurement in meters. _He loved science. With science he was at least in control. He knew exactly what to do, why and how things happened.

"You remember my sister, Cindy, don't you?" he heard Mark say amidst Roger's terrible playing. Tom commended himself for having immuned himself from Roger's playing long ago. The sounds the boy made on the piano was one of the reasons Roger was there: to practice without fear of his father's sharp eye and quick tongue. Tom thought Jake Davis was an idiot for forcing his kid to play an instrument Roger didn't like in the first place; the kid was just terrible.

"Yeah, sure I remember Cindy,"

Who didn't? She'd actually gotten boobs over the summer and she'd been flaunting it proudly ever since. It had caught every boy's eye, except Tom's.

_Terameter, gigameter, megameter…_Tom continued solving."What about her?" _Kilometer, hectometer, decameter._

He heard Mark snicker. "She likes you, man."

Tom had to put the book down and crane his neck to get a glimpse of Mark on the rug, a battered copy of '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea' on his lap. "What?"

Roger's playing had stopped and Tom saw that he had a funny look on his face. "Yeah Mark, what?" Tom sat up now, feeling an ache in his back for staying in the position he'd been for so long. "Your sister, _Cindy? The _vamp-woman Cindy?"

"Hey," Mark frowned. Roger shrugged and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Man, you gotta admit, she _is _a vamp. I heard she kissed a guy and she, like, _sucked _all the life out of him." Roger snickered, his shoulders shaking slightly.

"Where'd you hear that baloney?" Tom stole Mark's attention from Roger by tossing a pencil in his direction. Mark snorted in his direction, adjusting his glasses. Nearby, the grandfather clock announced that it was already six o' clock.

"I saw her diary, man. She wrote 'Cindy Cohen-Collins' all over it. And there was a really small picture of you. I'm guessing she got it from a yearbook or something." Mark shook his head. Tom felt himself go red. Roger guffawed.

"Oh _man,_" he laughed. "That is the craziest thing I've ever heard! Tommy, c'mon. Don't tell me you don't like that. You look like you're about to kill Mark. What are you going to do now, man? You should ask her out!" Roger gave him a wide grin. Tom didn't feel like returning his enthusiasm. He shook his head.

"It's just a phase, man," he told Mark. "She'll get over it."

But Mark shook his head. "The way I see it she's liked you ever since we moved here."

"Ooh, Maureen's got competition," Roger said. He raised his legs to sit Indian-style on the piano seat, where he fit perfectly. At ten, Roger was still pretty much of a runt among the other kids. Even Mark was growing taller faster than he was, but it never really fazed the kid. Tom frowned at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh c'mon, Tommy, do you really think Maureen _doesn't _like you? Ask Mark!"

"She does _not!" _Tom had shut his book now and had placed it on the nearby coffee table. Chemistry would have to wait. His heart was beating faster now, but not in a good way. _Shit. Shit. Please don't let that be true._

"It doesn't take a genius, man," Mark looked at him seriously. "Anyway, that's a good thing, right? My sister likes you, Maureen likes you…I mean, that's great news, isn't it? So you can, like, ask them out easier or something. I dunno. That's what my Dad would say."

"I don't know what _my _Dad would say, but…_eurgh _Tommy, are you going to have a _girlfriend_ now?" Roger looked as though he'd swallowed something putrid. "Yech."

_Shit._

His face was hot. Tom licked his lips. They tasted of strawberry soda. He remembered what his father had said the other day: _"No girlfriends yet, son? High time you start looking, don't you think?_ He remembered feeling hot, then cold, wondering if he should tell his father. But then he'd seen Ian's framed school photograph on the wall.

_It wasn't the right time._

"No one's getting a girlfriend. You guys are nuts. I'll prove to you that Maureen doesn't like me and then we'll just get on with our lives." He forced a smile and attempted to assess the situation by changing the topic. Without much thought, he turned to Roger.

"Roger, man, why the hell do you keep playing that stupid piano? I thought you didn't want to anymore."

Roger's expression changed, like someone passed an eraser over his face and made the smile disappear. He looked down and played with his laces, avoiding eye contact with Tom. "I've told you before: my Dad wants me to."

He could see as Mark shifted uneasily in his seat. This was a sensitive topic, but Tom went on. He was pissed at Mark for bringing the girlfriend topic up because it made his situation harder than before. He was pissed at Roger too for supporting it.

"Can't you just tell him you don't like it? Music has to have love, man, or you're lost," Tom stated smoothly. Maureen and Cindy were still on his mind, _Maureen_ especially (God, had he been that _blind?)_.He was in deep shit, thanks to Mark and Roger. "That's what my Mom used to say. She taught James and I how to play the piano."

Roger frowned. He spoke the next words carefully, as if he were uncertain if he should really say them out loud. "I just…have to. Dad said my Mom used to play. I know he misses her. I just want him to be happy."

"You're not going to make him happy if you keep murdering those piano notes, man,"

He knew he'd struck a chord. He knew how hard Roger had to fight to gain his father's love and attention. The kid was, after all, constantly competing with the memory of his mother and his father's work, and it didn't take a genius to figure out just how much Jake Davis loved both.

He was more than happy now that the conversation didn't revolve around him anymore.

"I just want him to be happy with me, Tom," he heard Roger say more softly. "I'd do anything. You know that. I'd do _anything._"

Tom remembered thinking those same words just recently when his father had asked him about girlfriends: _I can't tell him. I just want him to be happy. I'd do anything to make him happy. I can't tell him. It'd break his heart. _

Suddenly, his thinking cleared and his conscience kicked in. It said one thing to him and one thing alone:

_What the hell are you doing? _

From the corner of his eye, he could see Mark, mute on the floor, looking at him almost in disbelief. Tom felt as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over his head. Fuck, what had he done? Roger had his head down, his finger tracing lazy circles on the piano seat's leather exterior. The look on his face reflected a hurt Tom had never seen before. He couldn't believe it. He'd hurt Roger and he'd done it on purpose. Just to save face.

Tom felt ashamed of himself. The anger he'd felt a while ago had melted away, leaving him feeling as though he'd been kicked. Roger had trusted him and he'd let him down. _Et tu, Brute?_

"Oh God, Roger. I'm sorry I had to bring it up, man," He felt sick to his stomach. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He thought for a moment that Roger wasn't going to say anything, but "It's okay, Tommy," came softly about ten seconds later. That was Roger: quick to forgive and never holding a grudge. Tom knew he was on a clean slate, but he had to do something for the kid. He couldn't stand thinking about what he'd done. What the hell was wrong with him? Roger had done nothing to deserve it.

"If it makes you feel better," Mark's voice was small and Tom turned to look, "at least you don't suck at Math like I do. My Dad wants me to become an engineer, but my Math grades say otherwise." He shrugged. "It's just not my thing, Math. It stinks. But I don't want to let my Dad down."

Tom saw as Roger looked up at his best friend, looking almost confused. "Why didn't you just ask me to help?"

"I…I didn't want to, like, bother you or anything. I mean, I'm stupider at it than you are…"

"You're not stupid, Mark," Roger interrupted. "I'll help you with your Math, I swear. You're not stupid."

Tom felt a surge of affection for both boys rush through his veins, and he cracked a small smile. What was he thinking being mad at Mark and Roger? God, he was pathetic. He hoped it was just the hormones.

"Wait here." He got off the loveseat and jogged towards the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, hearing the dull pounding of his sneakers on the wood in his ears. The sounds were louder since no one was home. His parents had gone out for the evening and James and Michael had moved out long ago. He was, in a sense, like Mark and Roger now: sole receivers of their father's hopes and attention. It made everything doubly hard, especially with the realization of what he'd been keeping inside of him for so long. He wished life were like science. At least he'd know why and how everything happened, and he could predict how everything would turn out. But life wasn't. He couldn't do that. Not around here at least.

He paused automatically upon reaching Ian's room and waited a moment before opening the door that led to the inside of it. He had no knowledge of his parents ever entering Ian's room after the accident, like they'd made it into a shrine of some sort. Tom still went into it sometimes, to think, or sometimes to cry. He saw Ian's Fender perched on the stand by the window and without thinking, grabbed it, along with a few pieces of sheet music. Before he could consider what he'd done, he'd gone out and was jogging down the stairs with it in hand. He felt no guilt about it whatsoever. Knowing his brother, if Ian had known about, he wouldn't have minded.

"Here, Rog," Tom handed Roger the guitar. Immediately, Roger's mouth dropped open and he looked at it as if it were some sort of sacred artifact, his eyes attempting to take in the entire sight in one gulp. "If you want to make your dad happy, you're better off doing it in some way that makes _you _happy, too. Take it."

"Oh wow," Mark's eyes were wide as well and he reached out to touch it. "_Wow_. Is that Ian's? 'Cause I remember seeing him play something like that before…."

"It doesn't matter whose it is. Just as long as you promise to play it well," Tom placed it on Roger's lap since Roger was still mesmerized by it. "I know you'd wanted the drums originally but…"

"No, no, this is _great. _Oh wow, thanks, Tommy. Really. Thanks," he ran a gentle finger down the Fender's face. "Oh wow…I promise I'll be really good at it. I _swear._"

Tom smiled. At least that was one kid down. He turned to Mark. "I'll help you with your Math too, if you want. But then you can also try to find some other thing you like that maybe your Dad will like too, if you care that much. It's your life, man, not his. You have to find your own way."

Mark nodded. If there was one thing about Mark Tom liked, it was the fact that he listened, and he listened _well. _Tom could always be sure he was going to get somewhere with the kid. He didn't want either Mark or Roger to be in the same rut he was in. The least he could give them was a confidence boost.

"I'll keep that in mind," Mark smiled back. "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem." He looked at Roger who was now attempting to play the guitar. On his first try, the kid didn't sound half-bad. It was at least better than what his piano playing had been.

"I'm gonna be so good on this thing Dad would explode once he hears me," Roger looked almost blind with happiness. "Thanks a million, Tommy."

Tom smiled. He was glad he'd helped, but he wished he could at least be brave enough to follow his own advice. Life wasn't like science. Correction: life _in Scarsdale _wasn't like science. Here you had no control. Instead, everyone except yourself had control over whom you were and what you were going to become, and Tommy hated that fact. He hated it but he had to conform. He had to conform for now. He had to wait.

But Maureen…he had to tell Maureen soon.

**A/N: I hope you guys know what secret Tom's hiding. It's not that hard really if you look close enough, and that secret's all-out anyway in present- Rent-time. Also, I know mean!Collins is pretty rare and out of character, but I figured, well the guy's human and all, there had to be _some _point in his life that he was mean. And besides, he was doing it because A) he's high on hormones since he _is _an adolescent and B) he's very protective about his secret at around this point in time. He's just a kid.**

**Would you like to see Tom's confrontation with Maureen? Because I haven't decided that yet. You guys tell me and I'll try to come up with a chapter soon. :)**


	11. Be My Lover?

**A/N: I decided to stick an additional Tom chapter in, so you guys can see what'll go on between him and Maureen. :) If you haven't guessed his secret by now, well, you'll find out in this chapter.**

**TOM**

At 3:10 the following day, Tom found himself standing anxiously under the shade of an aged oak tree that stood outside the school, his blazer off and hanging limply from his messenger bag where he'd placed it. Usually, he, Roger, Mark and Maureen would go home together in one car, but today Tom had sent the two boys off, assuring them that he and Maureen would just walk home. Both Mark and Roger had thrown suspicious looks in his direction, knowing that he'd be alone with Maureen, but he'd had them go before they'd had a chance to retort anything. Now he was alone, waiting for her, who had never been keen about time. Tom checked the naval watch his father had bought for him that he wore on his wrist: 3:14.

_Damn it, _he thought almost angrily, _where is that drama queen?_

He was sweating. Not because he was hot, but because he was nervous. He loosened his school tie and rolled up his cuffs. He couldn't stop moving. Once every three seconds he scanned the rapidly decreasing number of people exiting the school, hoping he'd catch sight of Maureen's bouncing brown hair. She'd said yes, she _would _meet him, didn't she? _Damn it, damn it_. Tom rubbed his hands anxiously, replaying that day's events.

"Mo, you promise, meet me later?" he'd asked her in the hall as she put her things in the locker. She'd raised an eyebrow at him, a small smile on her face. She'd been wearing some sort of lip gloss and had smelled of something sweet, something fruity. It had given him a slight headache.

"Thomas W. Collins, what do you want from me? Of course I'll meet you," She'd flipped her hair away from her face and had bit her lip, hugging her History book to her chest. She'd been flirting. Tom knew flirting when he saw it.

"3:00, in front of the school," he'd said. His heart had started beating faster, but not because he was actually turned on by whatever the hell Maureen had thought she was doing.

"Whatever you say, Col,"

"Okay. See you, Mo."

It was now 3:17, and Maureen was still nowhere in sight. Tom was starting to lose patience. He was afraid that if Maureen kept him waiting any longer he'd lose courage. She _had _to come _now _or else…

There! Tom spotted her walking out of the school, her hair flying in the wind. She'd done a lot of growing up during the summer, though not in the way Cindy had. Maureen had become taller and skinnier, but not in a gangly way. She played tennis, so there was some muscle on her. She was beautiful, but Tom only said it through an outsider or a friend's point of view.

"Mo!" Tom yelled. He saw as she turned her head and looked for him. She smiled at him and waved, then began to walk towards him. Automatically, Tom jogged towards her to relieve her of all the stuff she was carrying.

"Why thank you, Tommy," Maureen, Roger and Mark were the only ones who could call him 'Tommy'. In school, he was strictly 'Collins' now, or 'Col'. They were about to go into highschool anyway. "Mark and Roger home already?"

"Took you a long time, didn't it? Yeah, I sent them home." Tom eyed her, looking for clues to confirm Mark and Roger's allegations. Maureen tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. Her cologne smelled stronger and her lips seemed shinier. She kept biting her lip and smiling, though not in an obvious way.

Oh God. Had they not been seeing each other in school for _that _long? Why the hell didn't he notice _anything?_

Tom's heart beat faster.

"Yeah well, I had to fix some stuff up for…English," Maureen told him. Tom almost laughed. She'd always been a pretty bad liar. He could imagine her taking eons inside the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. "What's all the fuss about anyway? What do you want to talk to me about?"

She blinked at him innocently. It was almost hilarious. Innocence didn't suit Maureen Johnson. It never had. He reached for her hand.

"C'mon." They couldn't do it in the schoolyard. Tom led her to the side of the school, which was shaded by a dozen trees or so. It wasn't a very good choice since it was usually used by some people for making out, but there was no other place to go. It was the nearest private place. He wanted to get it over and done with.

"What's up, Collins?" Maureen raised her eyebrows at him. "Some place you brought me." She smirked as she surveyed her surroundings. Tom placed their things at the base of a tree then hurried to gather his thoughts and senses. He pretended he was looking for something in his bag.

_Okay, you can do this. It's just Maureen. It's just Mo. Good old Mo._

He ran a hand over his face.

_Just do it. Just DO it. _

Oh my God, he was going to chicken out. He could feel it. Dread crept into his stomach and he felt as though he was going to throw up.

"Mo…" his voice came out weaker than a whisper. He wasn't sure if Maureen had heard him.

_Don't BLOW this, Collins. Take control. Take control. _

"Maureen," he said it a little louder this time. He straightened up then turned around to face his best friend. Tom almost jumped out of his skin when he saw that Maureen had moved from where she'd originally been so that she was now only a few millimeters away from him. She was so close in fact, that when Tom had turned around their foreheads had almost collided. The smell of her cologne became magnified and stung Tom's nostrils in the most unpleasant way possible. He gasped, half in surprise and half at the fact that his brain had become too overwhelmed by the sweet sickly smell her cologne provided. Maureen's eyes shone.

"Tommy, I…" she started to say. Tom sensed he was in trouble. He opened his mouth to tell her right that moment what he was supposed to tell her but Maureen caught him by surprise.

Now Tom Collins believed in logic. It was, in fact, the only thing he really believed in, because it gave tangible results. Math and Science were fields of logic and he excelled in those. But there were times wherein logic seemed to be defied. Sometimes they were actually people. Maureen Johnson, for as long as he'd known her, always managed to somehow defy all logic.

Maureen actually kissed him.

Before he could realize what was happening, Tom felt something press against his lips. Something warm, something sweet. The pressure of her mouth against his pressed against his teeth and it hurt. His eyes opened wide, his brain in full alert. There was Maureen's cologne congesting his nose, the bubblegum sweetness of her mouth in his, and a mini nuclear explosion taking place in his crotch. It was pleasant in a strange way yet extremely frightening at the same time.

"Mmmpf!" he exclaimed. He fought to push Maureen off of him. She was actually pushing him against the tree. "Mo!"

He succeeded in pushing her away and almost instantly the warmth in his mouth was gone. Maureen sat on the grass, her bangs falling into her face, her face flushed and her breath coming in pants, like she'd run a marathon. Tom realized he was panting as well. He put a hand to his head, unable to digest just what had happened.

"_What the hell do you think you're doing_?" he demanded angrily. He was upset. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was a nightmare. Maureen looked at him, confused.

"What did you push me for?" she asked.

"You kissed me!" Tom was yelling now. "You goddamn kissed me!"

"I did!" Maureen declared back. She got to her feet, her hands on her hips. "So what? What the hell is your problem?"

"What the hellis _your _problem?" His heart was beating like crazy and the world was spinning. Oh, he was really going to throw up now. For once, he wasn't taking charge. He hated it. He hated feeling so helpless. _Women are evil, _he thought bitterly.

"I like you, Tom!" Maureen told him angrily. "You're a blind fool if you don't know that. We've been friends for so long…"

"No!" Tom faced her sharply. This was probably the first time they fought. He'd never yelled at Maureen before. She was his best friend. She was almost his sister. This couldn't be happening.

"No what?" Maureen was almost crying. "I didn't…I didn't want it to begin like this…I broke up with Tim Hargrave just so I could get a chance…"

"You did _what?" _This was getting worse by the second. Tim Hargrave was one of the nicest boys Tom had actually approved to become Maureen's so-called boyfriend. He'd lasted the longest, since Maureen changed her boys almost as much as she changed her underwear. Tim had miraculously survived three months with her. "He was a great guy, Mo!"

"I want you! Tom, you're the only one who really understood me…" Maureen touched his shoulders but he inched away.

"This can't happen, Maureen. This…you can't…" Tom felt as though he was choking. _Damn it, get a hold of yourself! _He turned around to not face her and covered his face with his hands.

"I can't what?" Maureen was yelling again. Tom prayed no one was near enough to hear what they were saying. This would really make the front pages of the school paper. He could already imagine several headlines: _Boy Genius and Drama Queen: An Item! _or _Lovers' Quarrel? _"I can't _what, _Thomas?"

"You can't _like _me! At least not in _that _way!" Tom turned to her again, raising his arms as he hollered, as if he were proving some significant point. Maureen actually inched away from him, probably taken aback by his sudden outburst. Seeing that he now had the upper hand, Tom sighed and dropped his arms, regaining his self-control. He shoved a hand into one of his pockets almost defeatedly.

_It's now or never._

"I'm gay, Maureen," he told her quietly. He looked at her straight in the eyes as he said the words. That was it. His secret. That tiny part of himself he'd guarded so severely for the past few months after he'd finally realized and acknowledged its presence. He saw as several expressions flashed through Maureen's own eyes after he said it out loud: hurt, disbelief, surprise, shock. She'd always been a better actress whenever she _wasn't_ acting. Her eyes said it _all._

"That's why I asked to talk to you," he said. "I needed to tell you. You're the only one who knows."

Silence enveloped them. Maureen stood like a statue in front of him. The flush had gone from her cheeks and instead her face looked pale. An ill wind blew a curly lock of her dark hair into her face. She brushed it back carefully. Their stares at each other never wavered. Tom felt as though she was reading his soul through his eyes. Maureen had always been pretty good at things like that. She knew him more than anybody did, just as he did her.

"Say something," he almost pleaded her. He regretted yelling. He regretted pushing her. But he didn't regret telling her. "C'mon, Mo. Please."

"How long…have you known?" Maureen finally asked. Her voice was soft, the softest he'd heard from her yet. "I mean…are you sure?"

Tom nodded. "I'm sure."

"How?"

He shrugged. "I just do. You feel things like this, Mo. You just do."

"How long?"

"I think I've been one my whole life. I just didn't realize it." He frowned. "Are you…are you okay?"

Maureen nodded slowly, though she looked as if she was still processing the fact that he was gay. Tom neared her and reached out to touch her. Maureen flinched the second his fingers met her shoulder but then she quickly relaxed, and Tom let his hand rest there.

"Are you okay?"

"I told you I am."

"I mean…about that. About me being…" Tom trailed off. It was still something he'd rather not say out loud. "You know."

Surprisingly, Maureen looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Really? But…you kissed me."

"Yeah," Maureen sighed wistfully. Then she gave a little laugh. "It was sweet. That was my first kiss."

"Mine too."

"You're a great kisser."

Tom had to laugh. He hadn't even attempted to kiss Maureen back. "Yeah well…thanks."

"Too bad you're gay," Maureen laughed a little louder now. Tom punched her playfully on the arm.

"Shut up."

"My lips are sealed, I promise." Maureen assured him. "I'm disappointed, but I'm glad you told me."

"I'm glad I did, too." Tom put an arm around her shoulders. "I can't believe you liked me…."

It was Maureen's turn to punch him. "Shut up. Well, can't have everything. I knew you were too perfect to be true."

"Better go back to Tim Hargrave then. Sorry, Mo."

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I never really liked him. He was like a puppy dog. Let's just go home."

They went over to the tree to get their things but as they did, Tom stepped in front of her and planted an unplanned kiss on Maureen's lips, stopping her in her tracks. It wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. He tasted her bubblegum mouth better, her pear-scented cologne made his head swim in a good way, and his teeth weren't forced to embed themselves in the inside part of his lips. Astonishingly, Tom enjoyed it. When it was over, Maureen looked at him, surprised. Her eyes had been closed the entire time it happened and she slowly opened them, her lips still set in a small pucker. She'd enjoyed the kiss as well; he could see it in her face.

"What was that for?"

"Thank you," he told her simply. "And I thought you deserved a better kiss. A real, Thomas W. Collins kiss."

"Aww," Maureen pouted. "Jeez, man. Do you really _have _to be gay? That was really…nice."

Tom laughed, slinging his bag strap over his shoulder. "Sorry, Mo."

"Well. I can't say I didn't try. At least I can say that my first and second kisses were really _really _good." Maureen sighed, hugging her notebook to her chest. Tom put an arm around her shoulders.

"Damned right."

"Shut up," she giggled. "Maybe I'll just wait for either Mark or Roger to grow up. Hopefully _they're _not gay."

Tom jabbed her side in response and Maureen laughed out loud.

It was a start. To Tom Collins, the universe, _his _universe, was starting to fall into place. Things were beginning to make sense and things were beginning to become malleable. For once, he finally had things being molded the way he wanted them to become. He finally knew where he wanted to go and what he wanted to become. Finally.

The world was a smaller, less scarier place to Thomas W. Collins, now that, at fourteen, he'd succeeded in what most people as old as thrice his age didn't: he'd found himself, and he wasn't shunning it.

TBC

**A/N: Okay so maybe in the real world, thirteen and fourteen year olds don't actually make out and publicly announce that they're gay like this. I wouldn't know. Do they do that now? During my time they didn't. We were just being kids. But this is Maureen and Collins we're talking about. Impulsive Maureen and mature Collins. I'm betting that they _would _do something like this. It's just so…them. Haha. :) **

**Anyway, leave a review to tell me what you guys think. I do love your reviews, especially if they give me insight on what the story actually means to you guys, because I've read some really good reviews that made me go "Oh really? She realized that in the story? That's cool!". So yeah. When that happens, it delights me to no end, because you guys pick up insight I had no intention putting in the first place. :)**

**This is going to be the last update in a while. School's up again. Meh. College sucks. Have a good one:)**


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